Legacies
by JTX1000
Summary: In a time when peace governs the world, the Land of Lightning is threatened by a new evil. Shoryu Aizawa, an outcast from his own clan, finds himself in the middle of the brewing conflict and must learn fast in order to survive. 200 years post-Naruto
1. Chapter 1 The Ninja With No Legacy I

Author's Notes: _Hey guys, JTX1000 here with a brand new story for y'all to sink your teeth into. _

_As for this story itself, I'd just like to reiterate from the description that this takes place around 200 years following the events of Naruto and is set in the Land of Lightning. Why? Half of them use swords and they specialize in lightning based jutsu - that's awesome! Plus we don't know much about it as of this date and I'm not sure we ever will, so it's basically a treasure trove of potential for me. This just means that it'll be completely original._

_Finally, like The Room of Spirit and Time Saga I will be using the english phrases coined by the dub (So basically stuff like hand 'signs' instead of 'seals' and fire 'style' instead of 'release') - the reason for this is that for me, it gets a little jarring writing all the prefixes like -san and -kun and there's the issue of where to draw the line when using Japanese terms; I've seen a lot of fics that use stuff like 'Onegai' and 'Nani?', which looks a bit weird reading it in English. There's a lot of great fics out there that use it but I personally can't write like that; just give it a chance? Pretty please?_

_Also there's a planned three volumes, each of which will have around twenty chapters with timeskips between each volume, so this fic should be pretty long by the end.  
_

_So without further ado, sit back and enjoy my latest piece of work: Legacies_

* * *

**Volume I: The Dawn of a New Threat**

* * *

Chapter 1: The Ninja with no Legacy - Part I

As the sun began to rise above the Village Hidden in the Clouds a single boy sat atop a small, rocky spire that peaked in a flat plateau the width of a small building - a perfect place for the boy to call his own. This was his personal space where he came frequently to think, hang out and train, though the latter admittedly got less attention than the others these days.

The Village Hidden in the Clouds came as a series of rising mountain summits each within a shuriken's throw of the next. Around the middle of each steep spire ringed platforms were circled around them and entire structures were built into the cores of the mountains. Each peak was joined to the next by a sturdy walkway, leading down and onto different levels of the village so complex that only a native could navigate it properly without getting lost. Hundreds of feet up in the air they dwelled, as the highest mountains spanned right up beyond the clouds, where the boy made his residence.

He'd left at around five in the evening of the previous night for several reasons. Firstly, he didn't want the hassle of his mother fussing over him in the morning; secondly, to get some training done; and thirdly, because he felt like it. There was nothing better to do at his home that now lay some eighty feet below him – being out here was to be free – to give him some time to contemplate on things and get away from the watchful eyes of the village.

Now the sun had begun to rise over the Village Hidden in the Clouds, meaning he had only an hour or so before he had to go to class. To the graduation test.

He sighed. What was the point? He'd failed it twice already, would today be any different? By the regular standards of ninja his age the boy was average, though his main problem nowadays lay in his lack of resolve; if no one expected anything of him then why should he prove them wrong? What did he have to gain from pushing himself beyond his limits? That was his way of thinking at least. But in spite of that, the boy's small sense of pride refused to let him become _completely _useless. He'd come up here to practice his jutsu and told himself beforehand that he'd be training all night. When it came down to it however, he'd kept on going until the fatigue became too great and collapsed in the grass to sleep until waking just a few moments ago.

With a groan of effort the thirteen year old ninja in training got to his feet, facing both the dawning sun's glare and the three stationary targets he'd hauled up here a few years ago. They were torn and shredded where he'd practiced on them and had faded with the weather, though he'd repainted the bull's eye circle a few times to keep his aim true. With the targets lined up fifteen yards ahead, the ninja wearily stretched out his arms and legs and savoured a few deep exhales before he let his right hand creep behind his back; nothing like a little last minute revision to put his mind at ease.

In a flash the boy's arm snapped up, retrieving the folded quadrant of a blade. As he spun forwards in a full circle pivot the windmill shuriken fanned open before the boy launched it with all his might on a curving trajectory towards the target. But he wasn't finished yet; the boy spun again, revealing another of the huge shuriken that chased the first, zigzagging across from it as the two carved symmetrical arcs through the air. A single hand sign was then executed with near perfect precision, leading the boy to finish his small strategy.

"_Wind Style: Air Slash Jutsu!_" he cried.

From the palm of his right hand a sharpened crescent of air suddenly erupted and chased the two mirroring shuriken as the boy leaned forwards in anticipation, eager to see the result of his attack. The first windmill shuriken struck bull's eye, yet the second hit the outer ring of his target. The Air Slash Jutsu on the other hand merely glanced off the side of the middle target, but still, progress was progress. If those three were enemy ninja he'd have killed one, wounded a second and knocked a third off balance, though in combat foes were hardly ever stationary, and rarely did ninja come in the form of circular targets.

From last night's training he'd improved just a little. It would hardly make the difference between ranks, but at least it was something – he always had close quarters kenjutsu to fall back on anyway. Swiftly the boy drew a pair of swords; one that lay across his back and a shorter blade that hung by his side. He fell into a choreographed dance of simple yet effective movements, ignoring his previous attempts and devoting his attention into slaying the invisible enemies that surrounded him. With two swords at his disposal the boy leapt and spun and wildly slashed to keep his assailants at bay, all the while hoping that he didn't fall over.

Two swords meant more attacking power, as both the main hand and the offhand contained a blade in each, though its style was wild and unpredictable – in this regard it could be just as easy to cut oneself as an opponent, and one's defence was left hampered. He'd tried to be conventional and stick to the traditional single blade of the Village Hidden in the Clouds, but the boy simply lacked the balance and discipline – he always got carried away and shifted his weight too much when using a single edge, and so had been forced to switch to a style where such a flaw was turned into an advantage.

He practiced long and hard on his technique, flipping from place to place as each blade flailed from his body. After fifteen minutes however, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead and temples as his breathing grew unsteady. Another two minutes passed before he eventually caved in and deemed it enough for now; he told himself that he needed to save his energy for the exam, though in hindsight he realised that he probably would have quit anyway.

The boy was clad in a simple combat shirt of the lightest sky blue, fading down into white trousers made slightly grey with the passage of time. His hair was constantly concealed from fear of judgement by a black bandanna, tied at the back in a simple knot. His features were sharp and angular from head to toe, resulting in pronounced facial features and a rather slender frame despite all the weight exercises he'd attempted to try and fix it.

Satisfied that he'd done enough, the boy retrieved the two windmill shuriken from the targets and made to the edge of the clearing before hopping off a seemingly sheer drop onto a handily placed ladder he'd set up years ago. With it in place, he could easily descend the almost vertical plunge with little difficulty and hop back onto the labyrinth of walkways that connected the Village Hidden in the Clouds. The academy would be a twenty minute walk across breezy bridges and circular plateaus; a short distance that would help him recover and give him the space he needed to prepare his mind for the exam. Despite his cynical outlook, the boy was now determined to pass the test with it being just around the corner, but had he done enough to secure graduation? The boy contemplated this as he passed an opening stall; he figured his technique was already at the Genin level, but he had to take into account the fact that nerves would make him lose focus, along with the fact that Zakari Takazawa, his sensei, hated him with a passion.

"Shoryu!" cried the Chunin as the boy entered the room, putting on a show of faux-politeness as a facade for something more sinister. "Early as usual I see. Funny how you play truant less often when it's graduation day – what is this, the fourth? Fifth time you've tried?"

Shoryu Aizawa decided to only ignore his sensei's comments. To get him annoyed enough to backchat was exactly what the man wanted; any excuse to throw him out of class or disqualify him from the exam was good enough for Zakari. He'd fallen into his trap before, but not today; he'd never get a rise out of this ninja on such an important event.

It was no coincidence that the student and the sensei shared the same final character of their surname, just as it was no coincidence that Zakari seemed to have a vendetta against him.

Amongst the Village Hidden in the Clouds there existed a family of ninja known as the Zawa family – an elite group from a family tree that dated all the way back to the fifth Raikage. They were hardly common amidst the hundreds of ninja and citizens living in the Village Hidden in the Clouds, but over the last few decades the group had prospered, branching out into different families and spreading their precious genetic gift. Just over thirty ninja of the Zawa name now existed in the Village, and be they Takazawa, Yukizawa, Ranazawa or Aizawa, each of them possessed the Kekkei Genkai – or bloodline trait – of the Raikyogan.

All save one.

Perhaps the bloodline had become too diluted - or maybe it had undergone some kind of mutation, but for some reason or another Shoryu Aizawa had missed out on the power of the Raikyogan, and in recent years it had become very much apparent that he would never attain it. Since the clan's beginning the Raikyogan had materialised between the ages of eight and ten years old without fail - Shoryu was now thirteen and had stopped waiting for it to happen years ago. His sensei and two of his classmates were experts with the Raikyogan dojutsu, and whilst he bore no personal grudge against them, _they_ seemed to resent _him_.

Even his mother had been shocked when it had finally dawned upon her that her only child didn't possess the Raikyogan. She loved him even still, even if she was the only one amongst the Zawa bloodline who showed such emotion to him. He gave them a bad name; Shoryu was no weakling, but the Zawa family came from a tradition of being constantly above average if not exceptional ninja. Shoryu knew his mediocrity was a disgrace to them – it was like they expected him to denounce his family name and refute whatever inheritance he was due for not inheriting the Kekkei Genkai.

It hadn't just been in the last few years either; from the moment he turned five and joined the Cloud Ninja Academy he'd been targeted. As was standard in this day and age, all ninja were tested with chakra paper to calculate their natural elemental affinity upon their registration to the Academy. In almost every case all members of the Zawa family, no matter the branch, were bestowed with lightning affinity. The earth element appeared in perhaps one in fifteen cases, but Shoryu's paper had split in two, meaning that he was aligned with the element of wind.

It was for this reason that he'd been seen as an outlier from a young age. He had almost no talent for lightning style jutsu, and the fact that the lightning element itself was in fact vulnerable against the wind element led people to speculate that even if Shoryu _had _possessed the Kekkei Genkai it would be almost useless to him, as the wind-based chakra within him would severely weaken the lightning-based Raikyogan.

One by one students piled into the simply laid out classroom. Naturally, Zakari happily greeted the other two members of the clan without even a hint of the hostility he displayed to Shoryu. Eventually the class was filled with both usual suspects and faces he'd never seen before who'd studied in their own time. Even with the unfamiliar faces, Shoryu saw the even split between those who were about to pass and were about to fail. At this stage Shoryu had no idea which of the two categories he fell into, yet for everyone else he could label in a heartbeat.

Zakari cleared his throat before beginning. "Alright students. As you all know today is the day of your final exams, and just like last time we're going to mix it up a little so that we keep you guys guessing. Some of you have attempted this before. . ." his gaze noticeably fell to Shoryu, who had to bite his tongue hard to prevent a cocky retort flying uncontrollably from his lips. "So it would be unfair to the newcomers if we did the same test again."

As annoyed as he was for the sensei belittling him, Shoryu couldn't help but lean forwards in anticipation; any kind of change could give him either an advantage or a disadvantage.

"This term the Raikage has insisted upon focusing our efforts on ninja selection, as you students are the future successors to inherit this village." Zakari continued. "So instead of it just being me like the last time, two Chunin and two Jonin will be joining me in the evaluation of your skills."

Shoryu almost jumped in excitement thanks to this new revelation. With four extra ninja on board he'd be more likely to pass without the overly scrutinising judgement of Zakari dooming him to fail.

"Of course, as your sensei I will have the final judgement in the end, but the other ninja will be there to provide clarity and extra input should I miss anything. Even I'm not perfect." The sensei laughed.

Shoryu's heart sank again – Zakari would no doubt veto against his graduation, and even if they disagreed no Jonin would care enough to insist on passing him; this was probably just a way for them to make a little more Ryo on the side - what did they care who passed and who failed?

"Students from other classes may be familiar with the two Chunin: Yoshino Sakamine and Katane Satoshi. As for the two Jonin, Ruki Jenbo and Reizo Yukizawa will also be overseeing the test."

_Great_. Shoryu figured bitterly. '_Yukizawa' - just perfect. That's all I need; another prejudiced ninja from the clan lobbying against me. Even if I aced the whole thing I probably still wouldn't pass_.

"The final graduation exam will consist of five stages arrayed in a scoring system so listen carefully. The first is a standard written exam covering the basics of shinobi battle skills."

Shoryu mirrored the other students in frantically scribbling the information down on any scrap of paper he could find in his pockets.

"After that you will each be allotted half an hour time slots to return here and complete the remaining four. The second is a test of long range combat, the third for taijutsu or kenjutsu, the fourth for ninjutsu and the fifth for resistance to genjutsu. The written exam will be a pass or fail test – any more than fifty percent and you score a two, any less and you get a zero for it. The last four work a little differently: if you display no talent at all for the skills you score a zero, if you're vaguely competent you get a one, and if you're at the required Genin level you get a two."

Just as he finished his sentence a girl sat at the front with brightly coloured green hair shot up her hand and spoke a second before Zakari even addressed her. "So the maximum is ten points, right?" she asked.

"Correct, though an extra point may also be awarded if someone excels in a particular aspect. Since you're supposed to be at Genin level for all attributes a full ten is expected of you, though you need only six or more in total to pass the exam. Anything less and you fail."

Shoryu noted everything down as fast as possible, knowing that Zakari wouldn't repeat the rules, especially to him. He noted that the exam was far more complex in its layout as previous terms. Perhaps it wouldn't be _harder_, but there was certainly more required since one would be tested in all forms of battle skills. Shoryu knew that he had to completely wipe the floor with this test and excel in all areas if he had a hope in hell of passing, and so he prayed that the three non-Zawa judges would be sympathetic towards him.

"So look alive students because the written exam begins right now!" proclaimed the sensei.

Mixed expressions of fear and excitement infectiously spread around the classroom as students reacted accordingly. The female Chunin known as Yoshino then entered through the east entrance with a stack of papers that she began to dish out across the front row of students.

Shoryu left the building an hour later feeling more than satisfied with his performance. For the most part, the questions he'd wanted to come up had appeared. The test had begun with basic knowledge of chakra and Genin level jutsu before progressing into standard weaponry, the history of the five Villages and the complexities of elemental transformation. Despite being questions worth only a single mark, Shoryu had smiled upon seeing that two of the three history based questions concerned his personal idols: the First Raikage and the Sixth Hokage, two ninja that he was more than happy to write about.

All in all Shoryu simply _knew_ that he'd gotten more than he needed to pass the test. Half the questions he knew by heart and those that he didn't know he'd hazarded an educated guess at. There was no way he'd gotten lower than sixty percent, and since it only took fifty for a pass he had little to worry about.

But more was on the way; he'd only gotten two out of the six he needed to pass. Projectile attacks, close combat, ninjutsu and genjutsu resistance were to come. If he could just get a 'competent' pass on each of them he'd be safe, so he returned once again to his mountaintop hideout for some dedicated preparation with the six hours he had before his timeslot.

* * *

Two hours after the written tests had ended, Reizo Yukizawa found himself sat in a quiet room checking over tests after the two Chunin and his fellow Jonin had finished with them. He was an experienced shinobi of the Cloud village, wearing the long sleeved standard flak jacket of the Jonin and keeping his black hair in a tidy ponytail behind him for professionalism. He was tall, yet his weight was perfectly distributed into relatively muscular arms and a rather broad chest given as a reward for all his training.

Zakari had already marked the twenty four candidate papers, and with his history as an excellent sensei to the academy ninja, Reizo had no reason to suspect any foul play or bias from his fellow shinobi.

That was of course, until he saw the test paper of Shoryu Aizawa.

He smiled upon seeing the name of a distant nephew scrawled untidily in the name box on the front cover. He knew the story surrounding this boy; as a member of the Zawa family tree without the Kekkei Genkai of the Raikyogan he was surely disadvantaged from the start, and so Reizo recognised right away that this would be an interesting paper. He'd already checked over two of the Zawa clan's members today and for the most part agreed with Zakari's judgement, but upon turning even the first page he knew something was definitely amiss with young Shoryu's paper.

_Hmm?_ He wondered as his steady eyes scanned the page. To the naked, unsuspecting eye there was nothing wrong with Zakari's marking; had Reizo not previously noted the significance of the paper he'd have probably missed it too, as it was only thanks to knowing the kid's history through family gossip that the Jonin studied it with a little more interest than the others.

_These markings. . . _He flipped through the next three pages to confirm his theory, and sure enough the trend continued. _They're all wrong. He evaluates where necessary and describes meaningful factors whenever they're present, yet Zakari catches him out for missing the tiniest details – details that even a Chunin wouldn't be expected to know in such depth. . . Also. . ._ Reizo squinted his precious green eyes closer to the page to study further a few questions that seemed empty at first, though wrinkling marks of an eraser creased the sheet and faintly distinguishable lines could be seen where Shoryu had pressed down a little harder. _Did he get rid of some of the answers?_

As many students had already surmised, no one here truly cared about whether a student passed or failed; they trusted in Zakari's judgement, so if he showed it to the others he'd get nowhere. Furthermore there was no evidence to show that it had been Zakari who had rubbed out the missing answers and not Shoryu himself.

_Interesting._ He thought to himself, observing further that the final score was forty nine percent – a convenient fail. _Very interesting. . ._

* * *

Shoryu leapt up from his sleep at the first ring of his precise alarm clock that lay next to him in the grass – three forty five had struck, waking him from his slumber and telling him that his four o'clock timeslot was almost at hand. He'd left the written test at ten, bought something to eat and then practiced until quarter to three; casually as to not burn himself out too much before the main event. He'd then granted himself an hour long sleep to replenish his chakra and restore his fatigue. It wasn't much, but he needed every help he could get if he was to face the bias of Zakari Takazawa and come out on top.

Just as before, the boy flipped himself over the edge of the rocky spire and descended the rungs he'd fashioned out of plywood. After landing smoothly on the wooden gangways Shoryu set off at a quickened pace to make for the academy, knowing that if he was even a minute late the sensei would disqualify him. Just as he crossed the second bridge and made it past the stall vendor however, a familiar figure stopped him in his tracks; his mother Yuuko had just finished her annual grocery shopping and turned to him with a look of brewing tears in her eye. As much as he needed to move, he couldn't bring himself to avoid her when she looked so full of emotion, and so he turned greet her, telling himself that he'd only be a minute.

Yuuko cracked a smile upon seeing the determination of her only child's face. "Shoryu, I just wanted to w-"

"Don't even say it." Interrupted the boy swiftly, using a harsher and more blunt form of speech than his usual tone.

"Pardon?" stammered his mother weakly. She'd never experienced such an attitude from the young Shoryu; was he really disrespecting her?

"Good luck – you were about to wish me good luck." Shoryu explained. "Well save it, because when I pass this exam and become an official Cloud shinobi it'll have nothing to do with luck."

Yuuko nodded as her forced smile widened into one of sincere radiance – the kind Shoryu saw only rarely. "You know, you've really grown in your own way. I know that if your father were still here he'd be so proud even despite everything you've been through."

Shoryu nodded. He'd never known his father, though from the stories his mother had told him the man had been a great shinobi. "Mom. . . I know I don't always seem committed-"

"But that's only because you're sick of other people bringing you down." Yuuko presumed correctly. "Listen, don't worry about it – forget about them. You don't _need _the Raikyogan to be a great ninja. You've got mine and your father's blood in you on top of your own strength. You forge your own path Shoryu. People might tell you otherwise, but in the end _you _decide what you are in life."

As it occurred to Shoryu that he'd never seen his mother express these feelings he fought back tears and bit his quivering lip. He knew that she hadn't said any of this up until now purely because he was so isolated and unapproachable; he'd shunned her away without even realising, making her keep what she had to say bottled up for fear of him resenting her.

"Thanks mom." He said finally, encouraging her with a wry smile before realising that he'd spent more time than he ought. "I gotta go! See you!"

"Bye! And good l-" The woman paused, correcting herself quickly. "Do your best!"

_This is it! _Shoryu thought as he set off at a brisk pace. _Today I become a Genin of the Village Hidden in the Clouds. There's nothing Zakari can do if I perfect every test, and even with that other clan ninja there, the others will have to object if they try and cheat me out of a mark! Get ready mom, 'cause I'm not going to let you down this time!_

This trail of motivational thinking supported Shoryu all the way to the Cloud Ninja Academy. The academy was built within one of the highest spires of all the peaks in the village, with a circular hub serving as the ground level before the structure spanned up another three storeys to the top. Each level harboured multiple rooms and smooth platforms protruding out of its sides for outdoor combat training, making the whole arrangement look like a giant brown plant stalk with odd leaves shooting out at different angles as one went further up the spire.

As always, the classroom was on the base level, and as Shoryu jogged into the room he noticed that the clock gave him just another thirty seconds – he'd made it. The three Chunin and two Jonin level ninja stood already waiting for him around Takazawa's desk.

"Well well." Teased Zakari, ever using that familiar condescending tone whilst speaking to the boy, "Shoryu we were beginning to think you'd chickened out! Third time's the charm eh? Another half a minute and we'd have had to disqualify you."

_You'd love that wouldn't you? _Shoryu only wished he could speak the first words that popped into his head. "Well I'm here now so let's do it!" He stated.

"Confident?" Pressed the sensei.

"You bet! There's nothing that can stop me from passing this test now!" Shoryu assured.

Zakari grinned. "Well it's just a shame your test results don't reflect that notion. You scored forty nine percent Shoryu – almost, but I'm afraid you didn't quite make it. I hate to say it but you start with a base score of zero."

"What?" exclaimed the teen. He bit down hard to stop himself from cursing at the elder ninja.

"But don't worry Shoryu; all is not lost. There are still four more tests with two points each for displaying Genin level prowess. You can even get bonus points if you really excel."

_Yeah right, even if I did excel he'd die before he gave me an extra point. . . But I know I answered at _least_ half of those questions right – that snake must've cheated me out of my first two points! _Despite his quiet rage Shoryu's head got the better of him. If he exploded in fury now he knew he'd be disqualified for sure, but at this point he still had a chance of pulling through. _It's alright. Stay calm Shoryu. It's like he said, you get two points for being at the basic Genin level for the disciplines to come, and for the first three I _know _I can do that, which would give me the six points in total that I need. _He reminded himself.

"Fair enough." After calming himself, Shoryu finally spoke again. "But I'm still gonna pass this thing. Let's get started."

"Of course Shoryu – come right this way." Zakari then led the sky coloured teen and the four other ninja towards the north door where a room made up of only a massive, winding staircase spiralled upwards into the heart of the mountain spire. He led them up step by step it as he continued. "Now as you may recall, the second test deals with that of ranged combat. You must utilise shuriken, kunai or senbon to strike a moving target; it's simple enough really."

_Yes! _Figured Shoryu. _This should be easy enough. I'm at a similar level for all of these first three disciplines, but if I had to pick one I'd say that projectile combat is probably my strongest out of them_. "I can use windmill shuriken right?" he checked.

Zakari flashed a brief look of disgust at the reminder of the boy's wind affinity despite his Zawa clan blood. "This isn't the Sand Village Shoryu." He reminded.

"Actually, it's perfectly within the rules." One of the Jonin smartly corrected Zakari and Shoryu turned to smile at him before noticing the mark on the back of his hand. Though he wore long sleeves and tight fitting, fingerless gloves, the square gap at the Jonin's gloves conveniently showed off the faint shape of a lightning bolt from the Raikyogan Kekkei Genkai. This man was clearly the Jonin 'Reizo Yukizawa' that Zakari had mentioned earlier, but if that was the case then why had he corrected Zakari and helped Shoryu out? Was he taking pity on the boy?

"Ugh, fine." grunted the sensei. Higher and higher the six ninja climbed up the spiralling staircase until they passed the second storey and ascended up to the third. Once at the opening the group stopped briefly as Reizo eyed Zakari with suspicion; the Chunin sensei was definitely contemplating something, and so after a few moments he led them further up the staircase to the top level.

_We're going to the fourth floor? _Wondered Shoryu. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Reizo give the sensei the same look of apprehension – _he _knew exactly what was going on, and Shoryu only wished that he did himself. _But we've never been there for ranged exams before. . . Why now? Don't we usually just use the second and third? Why's he taking us all the way to the top? _

Shoryu's question was answered once the group reached the top floor and stepped out onto the wide, circular balcony protruding out from the grand spire. It took him a few moments to work out, but in the end he understood and couldn't help but be impressed by Zakari's deviance. Up here, a whole three levels above the classroom and the upper walkways of the village, the draught was far more noticeable with the high altitude. Thanks to its large surface area a windmill shuriken like Shoryu's would be heavily affected by the currents; one wrong move and it would be liable to veer off in any direction.

Zakari led the group out to the edge of the circular plateau and pointed to a moving target some thirty yards out, moving briskly from right to left across a wire that connected two neighbouring spires. A red circle the size of a human chest lay inside a larger circle of yellow. "See that target over there?" he said. "You must hit it with any projectile you like. . . You may begin when ready."

Shoryu nodded and made towards the edge to survey the distance. It was a long way – longer than any gap he'd ever attempted to throw his shuriken across before, plus the wind was a huge factor to consider. He licked his finger, closed his eyes and held the appendage to the sky, calculating the direction and strength of the wind so that he could apply it to his throw. He knew he'd have to throw the weapon with a huge force to stop it flying away – force he just didn't have with his slim build. He'd have to find another way to generate enough power in his throw.

"In your own time of course." Zakari teased.

_Yeah, well let's see you make that throw_. Grumbled Shoryu. _I have to hand it to you sensei, you've really outdone yourself this time, but no one said this would be easy; it's time to show these guys what I can do_.

With his thoughts as a motivator Shoryu then took ten long strides backwards until he was stood with his back facing the entrance back indoors. As he retrieved the shuriken from his back the boy saw the Jonin Reizo smile and nod with approval. Was he mocking him too?

By contrast Reizo thought very differently from Shoryu's perceptions of him. _Very clever_. He noted. _The kid's got brains at least_. _Still, it's a long way; I'll be surprised if he pulls this off._

"Shoryu, what on earth are you doing all the way back there?" mocked Zakari.

_Wait and see_.

Answering his question with actions rather than words, Shoryu suddenly bolted forwards into a sprint, holding out the enormous shuriken behind him as it fanned out to full size. Even before he'd thrown it he could feel the wind catching its surface and trying to slow him down, and so he sped up as he reached the end of the outcropping. Hopping up and cocking up the knee of a single leg Shoryu spun gracefully in the air, landing with all the speed and momentum he needed to hurl the shuriken as hard as his arm would allow him as his front foot skidded to the very edge of the plateau.

All six ninja noticed immediately that upon launch, the shuriken seemed to swerve on a violent bend; he'd thrown it too hard to hit his target.

"Ahh, too bad." Zakari offered. "Looks like it's going wide."

_Wait for it_. Reizo reminded himself. He glanced from Shoryu to the shuriken, seeing that the boy's eyes never left the spinning blade, ignoring his sensei's comments. As the blade soared higher into the winds he saw Shoryu's look of anticipation crease into a wry smirk; catching the higher air currents with a perfect success, the windmill shuriken changed its trajectory only slightly and bowed back downwards at the precise angle to bury itself firmly into the target.

_Incredible. _An impressed looking Reizo watched the still moving board as the kid clenched his fist in triumph. _That was no fluke. The kid's really something with a shuriken._

"One point!" Called Zakari.

Shoryu's moment of victory was crushed once again by the harsh decision of his corrupt sensei. That had been one of the best throws he'd ever made; how had it been _beneath _Genin level? He was mere moments away from throwing a fit when the most unlikely ninja questioned him first.

"I'm sorry." The Jonin Reizo scratched his head in confusion and turned to the Chunin proctor. "What did you say?"

"One point." Reiterated the man.

Shoryu grumbled again.

"Care to explain to us how you arrived at that decision Zakari? The kid made the throw after all – that's all that is required."

"Well." Zakari pointed closely to the target. "He didn't quite get it you see. Look – his shuriken landed _between_ the red and the yellow."

Upon looking closer Shoryu noted that his sensei was right, though this shouldn't have mattered in the grand scheme of things.

"Zakari, I'm sure I don't have to remind you, but up until now we award zero for a miss and two for a hit. One point is only given if the projectile bounces off the surface or if the shuriken hits _outside_ the yellow. He hit the red after all – if it was an enemy ninja they'd be dead for sure."

"Ah, but you're not taking into account the long and unnecessary run-up the boy took."

Reizo laughed to himself. "No Zakari, I am. The fact is that with his build and at this altitude, there was no other way to gain the speed and momentum his shuriken needed to hit the target without it flying away completely in the wind. It was an excellent move. On top of that, the kid understood exactly what angle he needed to manipulate the wind in his favour – even I thought it was going wide for a second. That was no accident Zakari; many _Chunin_ I know couldn't make that shot. If I were in your shoes I'd give him the bonus point as well."

"Ugh." Zakari looked to his peers as the two Chunin shrugged and the one remaining Jonin nodded in agreement with Reizo's claim. Shoryu saw his sensei flash the man a bitter look of resentment and understood why perfectly. As another member of the Zawa clan, Zakari wondered exactly why Reizo had insisted on helping Shoryu out, even when the others did not – why would he favour the talentless brat?

"Fine." He eventually settled. "Let's compromise and call it two points."

Reizo shrugged. "You're the boss." He reminded.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Like it? Well if you do then keep reading because there's more! Yeah Chapters 1 and 2 were originally just one chapter, but I split it up into two since it got so long and too wordy for me to edit in one sitting. _

_So yeah, if you're still interested then treat this and the next one as a single chapter, especially considering the second part is far better. _


	2. Chapter 2 The Ninja With No Legacy II

Author's Notes: _Just a quick pointer since most of you probably know this already, but in this chapter I'll refer to something known as 'Kenjutsu' - I don't think it's ever actually said in the anime (particularly the dub) but it's the word they use to describe sword-based combat in Naruto. It's on the Naruto wiki if you wanna check it out, but since a lot of Cloud ninja in the show use swords I thought it might be best to call it by its proper name._

_

* * *

_

Chapter 2: The Ninja with no Legacy – Part II

"Alright Shoryu that gives you a total of two points to begin the third round with." Stated Zakari. He led the group back indoors before descending the spiral staircase again to a third floor training hall, already scratched and scorched across the floor and walls from the efforts of previous students over the years. The hall was large enough to double up into an assembly area whenever the Raikage and Jonin hosted an emergency meeting, meaning Shoryu had more room to do as he pleased in this stage of the exam.

"As you know, this phase involves close-range taijutsu or kenjutsu – you may pick any of your choice." Said the second Jonin; a beautiful woman by the name of Ruki Jenbo. "Staying alive as a ninja is even more important than slaying the enemy, so for today we'll be focusing on defence."

_Defence? Oh great – why can't it be attack? . . It's alright; snap out of it Shoryu, your attacking might be better but you still should be able to do this._

"Alright then." Shoryu nodded, gripping the pair of swords that clung to his body. "I'll take kenjutsu if it's alright."

"You may use any and all weaponry to stop yourself being hit by your opponent, as long as you present them to me first. Also you may use any technique or form of kenjutsu you like; you may even attack if you want – a good offence is sometimes the best defence."

Shoryu took the advice on board as he withdrew the two swords he carried and handed them over to the Jonin, who with a rapid series of complex hand signs performed an imprisonment jutsu to coat the blades with an invisible barrier, turning them into non-lethal batons despite the sharp appearance.

"So, who's going to be my opponent?" Shoryu wondered aloud. He saw no other student to serve as his foe in a mock battle as he'd done in previous exams; would he be facing one of the older ninja?

"I am." Shoryu's heart sank as Zakari answered his question. "I will come at you with Genin level kenjutsu. If you can survive without being hit for thirty seconds you get one point, and if you can go for over a minute you get two points. Of course if you don't even last thirty seconds you get a zero."

_And I'll bet he does everything in his power to make sure that happens. Forget Genin level, if he has his way he's going all out. Guess I just have to hope he's weak in close combat. _

With Zakari's trusty sword made perfectly blunt by Ruki's Imprisonment jutsu, the pair each took a step back and squared off against the other, with Shoryu putting up a defensive stance before the test had even begun.

"When you're ready. . ." muttered the Jonin. She looked first to the steady Shoryu and then back the eager Zakari. "Begin!"

"_Raikyogan!_" cried Zakari.

Shoryu could only watch in dismay as the bloodline trait he'd been denied manifested itself as an electric blue surge of glowing energy washing across the eyes and hand markings of his sensei.

Every organism known to man possesses a small, invisible current of bioelectricity that flows through the muscles and nervous system, allowing for any kind of action, be it pain, pleasure or even simple movement to occur. As Shoryu stood frozen in fear he knew that the Raikyogan Kekkei Genkai of the Zawa family now allowed Zakari to channel and amplify the current within him without the use of hand signs and disperse it in short range bursts from any part of his body. In short, Zakari could now augment his fists and his conductor of a sword with the element of lightning, but that wasn't the only bad news.

Being a visual dojutsu, the Raikyogan took over the eyes as well, allowing its wielder to _see_ the internal current of bioelectricity flowing through their opponent's body, enabling them to strike the heavily concentrated spots in the hope of overloading their foe.

Shoryu braced himself for impact as Zakari closed the gap between them in a single bound. His sword cut as a bolt of lightning through the air, swinging with malice and the serious intent to harm. As fast as his body would allow Shoryu held up his offhand blade to block the attack before Zakari's sword rebounded and struck again, this time only grazing his main weapon and missing his body by a hair's breadth.

_If I don't do something soon I'm done for! _Shiro thought to himself. He'd blocked only two blows and even after that he felt the current of electricity from the metal edge teaming up with his anxiety to make his arms shakier than ever. He clasped tightly to the handles in order to correct himself, though within an instant of adjusting his grip another slash came in from the left. It was only after holding up both swords to block the move that Shoryu realised to his horror that Zakari had thrown only a one handed slash; he now ducked swiftly under the boy's guard, using a fiercely cackling fist to drive a lightning imbued punch straight into the kid's gut.

"Well Shoryu – looks like you get a zero." Zakari commented, though his words fell on deaf ears.

As his whole body fell into a high voltage seizure Shoryu dropped helplessly to his knees. Using the Raikyogan, Zakari had managed to briefly overload Shoryu's electrical system, leading him into a painfully numb sensation that sent daggers racing up his limbs whenever he tried to so much as twitch his muscles. He knew the science behind the Raikyogan and his mother had shown it to him twice, though no amount of preparation could prepare him for the real thing. This had been the first time he'd actually been struck by a Raikyogan-amplified attack, and he hoped right away it would be the last.

"*Ahem*" Katane Satoshi, the male Chunin, cleared his throat in declaration. "Beg your pardon Zakari, but don't you think that was a little _above _basic Genin level combat?" he pointed out.

"Indeed." Reizo coolly agreed.

The two remaining proctor ninja each nodded in affirmation after quietly conversing with one another.

"Come on Zakari, maybe you ought to give him another shot, and tone it down a little this time."

As his hearing slowly returned from the constant beep of his fried nervous system to a blurry, muffled key, Shoryu could've sworn he heard Zakari snarl in annoyance under his breath. He sighed and threw up his hands in apology.

"You're right – I suppose I overdid it just a little." He said with a false sincerity. "I _did _come at him pretty hard; I guess I just don't know my own strength sometimes. But perhaps it would be cruel to put Shoryu through another round after being hit like that."

"_No_." managed Shoryu, staggering painfully back to his feet and trying desperately to stop his legs shaking beneath him. Once again he saw the Jonin Reizo eye him with interest as he continued. "I _told you _I'm going to pass this didn't I? I'll keep going no matter _what_; this is _nothing_."

"Well look at that Zakari, the boy can still fight." said Reizo with a noticeable hint of smugness in his tone. "Looks like you'll have to give him another go."

"Yes of course." Zakari admitted, taking his place as he waited for Shoryu to at least stand up straight and for Ruki to trot back over to the pair.

"Alright, take it a little easier alright Zakari? We don't need any injuries today."

Zakari nodded, eager for the Jonin to continue.

". . When you're ready. . . Begin!"

As Zakari's launched back into his regular attack pattern Shoryu noticed that whilst it was still ferocious, he had far more freedom and time to act this time around. He deflected three oncoming slashes in a figure of eight movement, stepping back all the while to create some distance between the two of them. He parried slashes from all angles and made sure to keep his footwork in check, and the moment Zakari's Kekkei Genkai flashed back into fruition the boy threw himself backwards in a double flip.

_I see his game – he's trying to go as hard as possible without pushing past what he can get away with so the others won't stop him. But I only have to survive for a minute – you can do this Shoryu!_

The boy may not have been a prodigy, but he was observant enough to not make the same mistake twice; as Zakari closed in for another combination he kept his eyes on the hilt of his enemy's sword, watching for if the sensei approached with one hand on the grip or two. Fortunately the Chunin used both hands, wielding his sword in a practiced fashion and leading the boy into a high speed blitz of trading blades.

"Thirty seconds! That's one point!" called Ruki. Shoryu shifted his weight to avoid a swipe hitting him in the temple; though to his pleasant surprise the nimble move had left him in a neutral stance, whereas his opponent was completely off guard. Now was his chance - Ruki had said before that a good offence was sometimes the best defence.

Stepping forwards into an attacking position, Shoryu lashed out with four successive slashes of his two blades, and despite the each being swiftly blocked by the recovering ninja he put enough ferocity behind his blows to knock the man off guard. With the opportunity too good to miss out on Shoryu abandoned the ricocheting steel of his two swords and leapt high into a reckless attack. Using his first foot to step off Zakari's chest and through his defence, Shoryu twisted his entire body to the side and thrust his second foot forwards, landing a powerful kick to Zakari's head to drop the Chunin straight to the ground.

Despite himself Shoryu couldn't help but grin to himself as he landed; he had enjoyed that far more than he should have. Quiet giggles of amusement from his ninja peers fuelled Zakari back to his feet. Even through the unclear, electricity filled eyes of the Raikyogan he seemed angry. He had perhaps twenty seconds to put the brat in his place; up until now he'd been holding back too much, though it seemed that he couldn't lay a finger on the boy without using up much more power than he was supposed to.

"Fifteen seconds!"

With Ruki's useful prompt to spur him on, Zakari came at Shoryu harder this time, using as much power as he dared. If he used too much then the other ninja would stop him, but with the level he increased his speed to he felt confident that the boy would cave within moments.

A single blade came at Shoryu as if it were twenty; with his slower vision the weapon flew in a blurry afterimage of blue steel as he desperately knocked away attack after attack with the seconds ticking by like hours. The pair moved in a complex exchange of swords; Shoryu took slashes from all angles and kicks from seemingly nowhere. He felt the strain of his body begin to tire, noting that if this were a solo training exercise he'd give up at around this point. But it was too late to go back now – he'd swore to himself that he'd pass this exam – if he wanted to finally become a Cloud shinobi he needed to win this, no matter the cost.

After completing a triad of ruthless swipes Zakari launched a cackling punch in the boy's direction. When that didn't work he stepped back before lunging forwards in a short, high speed burst beyond standard Genin level combat. Once he saw the lightning rod of a blade streaming towards him at swiftness he couldn't match, Shoryu pushed off the ground instinctively as hard as he could. He managed to leap up and over the brutally slashing sensei, though by the time he landed Zakari had whirled around and was upon him again in Shoryu's brief moment of vulnerability. Synchronised slashes knocked the twin blades effortlessly from Shoryu's hands before he could even comprehend what had happened, and once he'd regained focus another hacking motion of his enemy's sword forced the boy to hurl himself out of the way.

He dived aimlessly through the air and landed hard on the stone floor of the academy training room, unarmed and completely at his sensei's mercy, but any time he could pull out was time enough – anything to prolong this match would do. As Zakari made a dash for him with the lethal looking sword Shoryu closed his eyes in fright; this was it - no getting out of this one.

"Minute's up!" Ruki's cry stopped the blunt, yet pain inducing instrument a mere inch away from Shoryu's chest. The boy grinned back up at the angered expression upon the Chunin's face as the man eventually conceded, withdrawing his sword before its blocked edge could jolt him again with the incredible power of the Zawa's Kekkei Genkai.

"So I'm on four points now right?" he checked. "Just two more points and I'm through then." Shoryu savoured the expression of revulsion briefly shown by his disapproving sensei before the man smiled again, trying to appear calm despite his clear unhappiness about the situation.

"Yes of course. But don't get overconfident there Shoryu – there's still two more tests to go."

With no hint of a help offering from the Chunin, Shoryu climbed back to his feet. He knew that if he had been treated fairly he'd have passed by now, but the basic ninjutsu test still remained – he wasn't worried in the slightest. "Then what are we doing still standing here?"

Reizo smiled to himself and allowed the ever more annoyed looking Zakari to show them out and proceed back down the spiral staircase towards the second level of the academy. If anything Reizo admired the boy's spirit; despite being hit with the full force of a Raikyogan augmented attack and being chased around the arena he'd come out smiling; he was so determined to pass this test and prove his sensei wrong that he'd endure anything, if the other three proctor ninja were paying their full attention they'd notice it in a heartbeat – he had more passion than any of the students that had come before him. Reizo could see now that the angered sensei was at the end of his rope; if he'd read the man correctly then he'd pull out all the stops in this next stage to stop the boy from passing the exam – it made for an entertaining watch to say the least.

Again the male Chunin Katane instructed him on the details of the next test as they descended.

"As you know, this next part of the exam tests your ninjutsu, but new to this term it also tests how well you cope under pressure. See, some people can pull off all the jutsu they please with excellent control and chakra flow, but it means nothing if they freeze up and can't access it in a tight spot. To test this we'll simulate a hostile environment to surround you. You won't be in any real danger, but it'll help us see how well you cope under pressure."

Shoryu nodded in understanding. He'd come too far now to let a few distractions deter him from his goal.

"Also, just like the last time, you get an option of which type of ninjutsu you want to be tested on. If you choose standard chakra control then you will be given a list of twenty basic Genin level jutsu of E and D-rank in difficulty and asked to perform two of them. If you chose shape or nature transformation however, you need only display one D-rank shape transformation or elemental jutsu within your affinity."

Shoryu considered hard on the matter. On the one hand he could perform a few of the basic Genin jutsu like the Clone jutsu, the Substitution jutsu and the Transformation jutsu, though they needed work and were mediocre at best – a mediocre he knew wouldn't make the cut with Zakari around.

His preferred jutsu were the two he knew from his elemental side; the first was easy, yet basic: his Air Slash jutsu. Its low level of power as a technique wouldn't amaze any of the ninja, but it sure was a Genin level technique. Just as he figured before though, he'd need more than that to pass – he needed to excel with an undisputable show of talent to have any hope of getting two points with Zakari as the final judge. His other jutsu would probably do the trick, provided he could actually pull it off.

"I'll go with the second option – I'm not too bad at nature transformation." Shoryu decided, taking note of the fact that Zakari clucked in disapproval; not only did he defy the clan by being a wind adept, but he also seemed to flaunt it, as his primary attack jutsu were those very techniques that he should've been poor at by the very fact of his birth.

"Sure thing." Katane scribbled the details down on a handy clipboard before tearing off a sheet from the back and handing quickly handing it to him before it reacted to his fire element. "Just to check your alignment."

Shoryu grabbed the blank, plain looking slip, and the moment he realised that it was chakra paper the sheet had split in half right down the centre, showing off his elemental affinity for wind.

_So it really is true_. Reizo noted, observing the event out of the corner of his eye. _The kid's a wind type, no doubt about it; it definitely looks odd seeing it from a Zawa family member. _

"Alright, so here we are." Zakari announced.

He led the group into another hall similar to the last in size, though its layout was slightly different from the previous. Instead of being completely blank, this hall had at its centre a large X shaped marking on the floor, perhaps a square metre in length and width. For the ten paces that surrounded it upon the roof, floor and walls, tiny circular vents were dotted across each surface, serving as entrance and exit holes for what Shoryu suspected would be a swarm of shuriken.

"Stand on the cross at the centre and don't move from that spot until we instruct you on when it's safe to leave." Instructed Yoshino as she made her way to a lever on the far wall.

Shoryu nodded and swiftly made his way to the large X, stepping over the small potholes in the ground whilst being careful not to break them under his step. Once he was ready he took a balanced stance and gave the female Chunin a signalling nod.

A few excruciating moments passed after the woman jerked down the clunky lever before flying steel began to rain around the boy. Kunai knives, senbon and a whole manner of varying shapes of shuriken flew past him in every direction. From the floor, ceiling and both sides of the wall, projectiles catapulted from the vents with all the ferocity of a Jonin's throw before disappearing into the other side. Instantly Shoryu could see how effective this test was and had to admire whoever came up with such a genius idea; even despite having a strong, unwavering resolve to pass, even Shoryu felt the discomfort in being effectively right in the crossfire of thousands of sharpened steel missiles.

"Stay calm and don't move." Yoshino reminded. "If you stay on that X you're in the blind spot of the vents, but if you move about and step off it in panic you could seriously hurt yourself. We had a girl earlier who flailed about and ended up with three shuriken and a kunai in her right arm."

_Great_. Wondered Shoryu; he pondered over the validity of that story and whether or not it was merely there to scare him. Whichever was the case, it certainly succeeded; as the razor sharp hailed streamed by him in every direction the boy began to doubt his own abilities and froze momentarily. _It's alright. _He reminded himself._ Just stay calm Shoryu - you can do this_.

"You may begin when ready."

Casting aside all previous hesitation, the words of the Chunin led Shoryu immediately into a sequence of five basic hand signs executed in perfect precision as he recalled the array by sounding out the words in his mind, all the while building up his chakra to be as sharp and thin as he could make it.

_Tori, Inu, Uma, Tatsu, Tori._ He recalled, baring the signs of the bird, the dog, the horse, the dragon, and then back to the bird to finish off.

"_Wind Style: Ga-_"

Despite being in complete control Shoryu suddenly let out a yelp of pain as a stray senbon from the avalanche of projectiles around him streamed from his surroundings and struck him in the leg, ruining his concentration and forcing him to lose control of the chakra he'd built.

"_Galeforce Jutsu!_" He managed. He could've stopped and done the array again, though Shoryu knew that if he did so Zakari would take points off him for stalling and so opted to launch the jutsu even despite his loss of focus. A small tornado erupted from the hand sign of the bird, kicking up a whole manner of metallic projectiles and trapping them within its vortex. It was just about a C-rank technique; a formidable jutsu when executed correctly, but therein laid the problem.

In his pain and hesitation Shoryu's Jutsu veered off uncontrollably to the side from a lack of chakra control. It wobbled constantly from the stem of the tornado for just a few seconds before disappearing completely, and whilst those few seconds had shown off the power of the technique it was far from long enough to be effective in combat.

Yoshino jerked up the wall-mounted lever on the wall as Shoryu dropped to one knee. The buzzing static electricity that still shook his body coupled with the pain of the senbon digging into his leg made it inevitable. He jerked it out with a grimace of pain and a splatter of blood as the older ninja rushed over. Shoryu willed himself to stand, though with the fussy, mother-like attitude of the medical Jonin Ruki he was forced to sit again as she tended carefully to the deep puncture.

"That X was supposed to be a blind spot." Said Katane. "One of the senbon must've ricocheted off something else and hit him."

"Indeed." Zakari whispered. "It's unfortunate though it can't be helped. You jutsu was present but not fully formed Shoryu – I'm afraid that's only one point."

Shoryu growled in frustration, though as he looked over the other ninja and saw Reizo eyeing the sensei with a glare of apprehension he realised in horror something that he should've seen from the start. The smugness of his expression, the fact that he carried senbon daily and the convenience of Shoryu being hit right at the moment of his execution – it all added up to tell the boy beyond any shadow of a doubt something that Reizo had clearly seen happen with his own eyes; _Zakari_ had thrown the senbon.

_So that's how far he's willing to go to stop me from becoming a fully fledged ninja is it? He'd actually attack one of his own students to deliberately sabotage my attempts. There was always some part of me that figured his resentment for me could just be my imagination running wild; that I was being paranoid. Well at least now I know for sure. That man hates me with every fibre of his being. And you- _Shoryu turned his gaze to the Zawa clan Jonin, the man named Reizo. – _you saw it didn't you? Why don't you say anything? It's not like _I_ can accuse him is it?_

"Don't you think you're being a little harsh Zakari?" said Ruki, standing up after she'd finished sealing Shoryu's wounds. "I mean the kid got hit with a senbon and he still managed to pull off the jutsu; some Genin might cave in at that point."

Zakari sighed and shrugged. "I know Ruki – I wish I could give him more points but it's just not in the rules. It states that any jutsu that is incomplete or flawed must be given a one. It's just bad luck I'm afraid; these things _do_ happen from time to time. Remember he still has one more phase of the exam left and he only needs one more point left to pass."

_But it's genjutsu resistance; I missed the class on that and my chakra control needs work! _Shoryu calculated. _I might be able to pull off a basic release and get a single point, but with the way it's been going so far I'm not sure even that would work – he just keeps making it harder and harder! _

"We can begin the first test whenever you're ready since it doesn't require any kind of specialised training room – genjutsu takes place in your mind." Zakari continued. "All you have to do is pull off a successful release within two minutes, if you can do this then you pass the test."

Shoryu nodded; there was no point in worrying about it now, he just had to take whatever Zakari could throw at him and hope he could pull off a successful release in time. "Bring it on!"

"Alright then, but I warn you, we can't be held liable for any trauma you may find within genjutsu." The sensei then made an unconventional hand sign Shoryu had never seen before, and from the look of stunted surprise on Reizo's face he doubted it was on the regular syllabus.

"_Ninja Art: House of Devil's Truth!_"

Shoryu steeled himself for a world of pain upon Zakari's initiation of the jutsu, but at first he felt nothing. Slowly however, he felt his whole body begin to tip backwards as he fell in a nauseous, suffocating haze through the floor and into a sea of murky brown fluid. On the outside, he knew his exterior form was still standing, but the feeling of falling; of drowning to the bottom of an endless sea overwhelmed him, and so he shut his eyes to shield them from the tainted liquid.

When the boy opened his eyes however the dark ocean had disappeared as he found himself standing in the middle of a room suspended in shadow; a single room of many amidst a gothic estate reminiscent of a haunted house.

"What is this place?" he wondered aloud, looking around in both terror and wonder. Despite knowing that genjutsu was at work, the ninja's curiosity had begun override his every other instinct, begging him to take a look around before he left. But he didn't have to explore - footsteps down a darkened hallway to his left attracted his gaze before the shadowy figure of his own mother materialised from nowhere at the entrance to the door.

"Shoryu, dearest." She spoke sweetly, captivating Shoryu's complete attention with her charming glow of radiance and sincere display of maternal affection before her face suddenly twisted and malformed into an expression of disgust he previously thought her incapable of. "What a shame you were such a _disappointment._" She spat.

Shoryu's eyes widened in fear as his mother's heartbreaking and out of character revelation struck daggers into his heart. "W-What?" he gasped.

"Didn't even inherit the Raikyogan – the first since any can remember. . . You're a _disgrace _to me. The _shame _I feel every time I see my father or sister; how _weak _I must've been to sire such an unholy offspring as _you_."

"D-Don't say that mom. . ." whispered the distraught Shoryu. As the genjutsu took complete control over his mind the boy was left helpless against the inevitable current of tears flooding to his eyes. He dropped to his knees, feeling more vulnerable than he'd been in his entire existence – realising that he didn't possess the Raikyogan two years ago was nothing compared to the trauma of hearing the only important person in his life say such hurtful things.

"If only you were more like your father." She hissed.

"No. . . Mom! Stop! Please! I'm sorry!" Shoryu insisted fearfully.

"_Zakari! Have you lost your mind? We don't use Genjutsu of that level on the students!"_

The distinctive sound of Katane's protesting echoing faintly through the mansion brought Shoryu's completely indulged mind just a little back into reality.

_Wait. . . Was that Katane? What's he doing here? . ._ Wondered the mystified teen.

"_It's nothing that'll kill him Katane; as a Genin a shinobi has to be wary of all kinds of attacks from enemy ninja._"

_Of course. . . This is a genjutsu. . . I can get out of here!_

Shoryu's brief moment of clarity was cut off suddenly by another group of ninja appearing to his right out of nowhere. Among them stood Zakari, Reizo, The two kids in his class and perhaps thirty other ninja of the Zawa bloodline, fixing him with that look of judgemental apprehension that he loathed about them. They uttered words of hurt that in his state of panic he thought would stick with him forever: disgrace, shameful, dishonouring and weak; the phrases spread infectiously around the mob before Zakari stepped forwards.

"You? A ninja? Don't make me laugh kid!" he pointed to the headband of the Village Hidden in the Clouds that the group all wore with pride. "You don't have what it takes to get one of these! You're nothing! You're just a failure; a worthless stain on the honourable bloodline of the great Zawa clan!"

"No! Stop it!" cried Shoryu. He clawed pathetically at his bandanna-concealed head in an attempt to cease the traumatic onslaught, feeling like every word was a shuriken to his defenceless mind and that if he endured it any longer he'd die from the pain right there on the spot.

"_We don't even _send_ Genin on missions against enemy ninja! That's far too extreme a jutsu - can't you see what it's doing it him?"_

Shoryu shook his head violently in an attempt to wake himself from his dream-state after Katane's words reminded him of the situation once again. _It's a genjutsu Shoryu! I might not have been to the classes but I at least know the science behind a release_.

Under the intense pressure of his family's spiteful words boring daggers into his mind Shoryu tried desperately to slow the flow of his chakra to a complete stop. It was difficult, but in time he managed to slow it to a steady pace, and with the ever approaching ghosts making him act hastily he deemed it would be enough. With a shakily executed hand sign Shoryu transferred his chakra with a rushing motion to one burst of energy.

"Release!"

A flash of white light suddenly escaped from Shoryu's body, filling most of the room in its holy glare. As powerful as the outburst was though, the bloom didn't quite manage to engulf the entirety of the room, and subsided into darkness after its short burst.

"Release!" he cried again. This time the solar flash was even weaker, as with the lack of control and manipulation he wasted his chakra quickly under the slowly approaching ninja of his family. He knew that if he could somehow manage to make the light shroud the room completely he'd be free from the genjutsu, but for all his efforts he lacked the steady composure and chakra control he needed to pull it off.

_I have to get out of here! There has to be another way to escape this genjutsu!_

Out of the corner of his eye another figure suddenly presented itself to Shoryu, shrouded in a shadow concealing the person's identity. He didn't need to see the person's face to know who it was though – despite never knowing the man, Shoryu knew right away that the silhouetted figure meandering through the final doorway was his father. He abandoned all logic in a heartbeat and dedicated everything into finding a way out, determined to escape now that this man had appeared. He no longer cared about passing the exam – it meant nothing to him in his condition, he just needed to get the hell out of this nightmare that had consumed him.

"Release! Release! _Release damn it!_" he wailed in desperation. The flashes of light from his body only grew weaker and weaker as the figure loomed ever closer, appearing to him as a reaper closing in on its unworthy prey.

"You think a great ninja like _me _could be proud of someone like _you_?" the man's muffled words struck hammer blows at Shoryu that made the previous insults from his mother and clan feel like nothing with the suffering he now endured. "You're _nothing_."

As his mind raced to the last vestiges of his memory Shoryu recalled a second method to escape the clutches of a genjutsu – a far more difficult and punishing technique to say the least, though in Shoryu's view anything would've been better than dying here, insignificant and worthless in the shadow of his greatest fears.

He drew the small shoto blade strapped to his belt on his right side before plunging it without hesitation into his left leg. Again the flash of white shined; brighter even than before, but under the powerful hold of Zakari's jutsu it still didn't quite fill the room entirely.

"_Zakari stop! He's gonna kill himself! Release the genjutsu!_"

"_Just five more seconds Katane." _Zakari sneered.

Ignoring the pain from his left quadriceps screaming for him to stop, Shoryu withdrew the blade and stabbed down again an inch or two lower, and when that didn't work he stabbed a third time in terror-fuelled madness. Blood cascaded like a jet powered shower from three deep wounds in his leg as the same liquid splattered as crimson paint over his sword and onto his clothing, but he'd stopped caring long ago – he had to get out – he had to get free.

Shoryu was only moments away from taking the blade to his neck when a flash of white not of his doing filled the room and he found himself once again kneeling down at the centre of the academy hall, unsure of which parts had been real. As he looked down to his mess of a left leg he realised that every physical action he'd taken in the illusion had been real. He'd carved three horrendously painful wounds into his leg and his supposed teacher had allowed it all in his resolve to fail the boy.

He breathed laboriously and dropped to all fours in fatigue, dripping wet from a literal concoction of blood, sweat and tears. Now that he'd gotten back into his usual frame of mind he dreaded the next words; as Ruki the medical Jonin raced over him he hung his head in misery, sparing himself the grinning expression of his cheerful sensei.

"Sorry to have inflicted such damage Shoryu, but the fact remains that you failed to release the genjutsu and fell right into its trap. As such you score zero for this phase of the test, putting your final score at five and meaning you fail the exam."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Well that's that. Hope you enjoyed the first installments. If you can spare the time feel free to give me any and all feedback - I'm completely open to criticism so don't be shy. _

_Just like with DBAF, chapters should usually come about once every two weeks. It's not an absolute measure since I often have a lot of university exams, presentations and assignments to do on top of a part time job and working on my own novel, but I try and stick to it as closely as possible._

_I'll draw up and post a picture of Shoryu and the other characters whenever I get the time if only to emphasise that I tried to make him as little a Mary-Sue as possible - the guy looks and acts almost nothing like me or anyone I know, but I haven't completely fleshed out his character yet so I'll try and put some nods to his outlook and attitudes in the following chapters. I wanted him to have smarts and be dependable but also impulsive and free-spirited if that makes sense._


	3. Chapter 3 Heretic of the Clan

Chapter 3: Heretic of the Clan

"Ah well I guess it can't be helped." Zakari sighed. "You were so close too; better luck next time I guess."

Ruki knelt down next to the gravely injured teenager as her left hand began to glow in a tremendous display of controlled, emerald chakra. The boy however refused, slapping away the woman's hand with his own before staggering to his feet and running awkwardly on his bloody leg out of the room.

The principle of shinobi conduct number twenty five states that shinobi much never, under any circumstances, show their feelings or emotions. Shoryu told himself this over and over again despite the waterfall of tears he simply couldn't contain; how could he carry on going when he'd given everything he had with it still not being enough? How could he face his mother again after the words he'd told her earlier with such confidence? The boy ran from the academy, vowing to never return as long as he lived – what was the point after all? He'd been born a failure and would continue to live like one as long as people cemented it on him.

As Shoryu ran past groups of huddled villagers he suddenly heard the cracking of distant lightning as an echoing rumble; apparently even the skies shared his sorrows, but no matter what storms would hit the village Shoryu merely wanted to be alone, and so retired quickly to confines of his summit area above his home. He grew faint from blood loss and his head began to spin when recalling the horrific injuries he'd experienced today both to his body and mind, giving him a sense of anguished queasiness like nothing he'd ever felt before. Hesitantly Shoryu untied the simple black bandanna covering his hair; it was something he never ever did when outdoors, as to add to his oddity he'd inherited his father's hair of a fluffy and feathery wave of chocolate brown as opposed the straight cut black of the Zawa clan. However despite the embarrassment he felt of it, he simply had to remove the bandanna to wrap it tightly around his leg so he could stop himself bleeding to death. For now at least, it would have to do.

* * *

"And so that puts you up to eight points – a respectable pass Ramoni."

As Zakari delivered the good news to his final student of the day the plain looking girl squealed and cried out in joy. The hour approached seven thirty, though with the approaching winter and the storm clouds casting a shadow over the village it looked closer to nine. Outside the rain pounded relentlessly against the sides of the mountainous spires. The villagers had long since retreated indoors to save themselves from an immediate soaking and the projectile phase of the exam had been moved inside at around six to shield them from the grim weather.

"And I guess that just about wraps things up for today. You were our last student to test." Zakari informed as the group reached the standard classroom down on the base level of the academy. Ramoni bowed courteously and skipped out of the room, leaving the sensei to turn back to his fellow shinobi and exchange handshakes in thanks.

"I've got to stay here and just sign some paperwork, you guys can go home whenever you like."

The two Chunin and two Jonin ranked ninja took it in turns to thank the sensei one at a time before Katane and Yoshino left the room. Zakari retrieved the stack of paperwork containing the pass or fail markings for all twenty four of the students and proceeded to sign them individually. Ruki turned to leave as well, though was stopped mid-way by the Zawa-clan Jonin.

"You have my back right?" Reizo muttered to her, loud enough so that only she could hear. "I could get in a lot of trouble if anything happens and it looks suspicious."

"I have it – don't worry, I'll act as your witness if it gets out of hand. We can't let him get away with what he did." She replied.

"I know, but you go home for now – he's all mine. Besides, you don't want to be here if things turn ugly when I'm around."

"Modest as usual I see." She joked. "Well good luck at any rate."

"I don't need it, but thanks anyway."

After the soft padding of Ruki's elegant footsteps left the room Reizo let out a long and calming exhale. If he was to handle this situation properly he'd have to keep a clear head about him at all times, but just looking at the snake of a ninja was enough to invoke powerful resentment from him. After a few breaths Reizo steadied his composure, and as cool and controlled as ever he walked back over to Zakari's desk.

"Oh, Reizo – I thought you'd left already." He said, looking up from his papers after signing and stamping another. "Is there something you needed?"

"As a matter of fact there is." Reizo announced.

Zakari paused with a look of wary apprehension; the Jonin's voice had risen to far more authoritative tone than it had before, like a disappointed father berating their child.

"It seems painfully obvious to me, but I thought I'd give you a chance to explain yourself before I take action. Tell me why you failed Shoryu Aizawa."

Zakari's heart missed a beat; so Reizo had seen through his whole act – after all it had been impossible to fail the kid without making it much more difficult for him. After his brief look of shock Zakari instantly fell back into his faux-polite smile. "The kid failed fairly didn't he? I'm afraid I don't quite see where you're going with this."

"Oh but I think you do." Reizo punctuated his words by slamming a single fist down on the wooden table and looming over the man, belittling him just as he'd belittled Shoryu. "You deliberately went out of your way to intensify and sabotage his exam out of your own personal hatred for him – you can't stand to see him succeed in anything just because the kid had the misfortune to not inherit the Raikyogan. If anything you should be helping him; it's not his fault he was born that way."

"These accusations are nonsense!" Spat Zakari. "I don't know what kind of evidence you have to suggest me capable of such behaviour."

Reizo smiled a cunning grin. "I'm glad you asked Zakari." He began to circle the man like a tiger threatening its prey. "Firstly, you purposefully led him up to the highest platform of the projectile training because you knew his wider shuriken would be ineffective against the currents, and even when he made a near-perfect shot you had the audacity to suggest giving him a half mark. Second: you attacked him in the taijutsu exam with force that was less of a rookie's calibre and more that of a specialised Genin level expert in kenjutsu, but not before you slammed him with the full force of the Raikyogan and blamed it on a misjudgement of strength."

"This is preposterous!" Zakari complained.

"_Then_, if that wasn't bad enough, you had the nerve to hit your own student with a senbon, because you knew that if he cleared that phase he'd have the six points he needed to advance."

"That was a freak accident and you know it Reizo! One of them must've bounced off another in the crossfire."

"Is that why your senbon wire on the left side of your belt that normally carries five of those things now carries four?"

"I had chicken for dinner; I used it as a toothpick."

Zakari's cocky remark was promptly interrupted by Reizo grabbing him by the collar and pinning him headfirst into his own desk with a force powerful enough to crack the furnished wood and bounce his coffee mug from the table.

"Don't get smart with me you arrogant little brat." He warned, sounding perilously dangerous even despite the low key his voice remained in. "I know you did it because I saw you with my own eyes and that's the simple fact of the matter. You deliberately sabotaged his exam out of your own resentment of him, and in your desperation to see him fail you used a B-rank genjutsu that was just as likely to kill him." Upon finishing his sentence Reizo drove the man's head further into the table. "I could have you dropped from the programme in a heartbeat for such a cruel and reckless move, and I haven't even brought up the fact that you no doubt modified his written test to a fail. Sure, the kid's no prodigy, and he's hardly going to be breaking any records, but he's easily got what it takes to pass no problem. I thought as a fellow shinobi and distant cousin I'd offer you the chance to explain yourself - to see if you had some other agenda, but now I see that it's just as I thought: you hate that kid for being different. You think he somehow shames your family's honour by even existing and that you're superior in every way, so you can't stand to see him succeed at anything."

After a few more calming breaths Reizo loosened his grip on the man before finally letting go. "Well it's all at an end now, you can pass him." He said. The Jonin then began to walk away, leaving the sensei to the confines of his office.

Zakari clenched his fists in anger. "It's at an end? You really think I'd let that kid pass after what he's brought on our family? He's a nobody - a failure! You think someone like him could ever be a successful shinobi? Never! I refuse! The brat's not worth it!"

"It's funny you say that, because by the end of today Shoryu will be accepted as a Genin. As for you. . ." Reizo stopped to cast a glaring eye over his shoulder before continuing. "Your days as a ninja are over. I have another Jonin and two more Genin who witnessed your appalling conduct today. Pack your bags Zakari."

"You. . ." This time it was Zakari who slammed his fist onto the table in anger, rising up from his seat at last and pointing a finger of accusation at his elder. "How can you say such things? As a member of our clan you should be supporting me! How can you take that brat's side over mine? How you even look at him and not feel the shame of our family's honour being disgraced every time he opens his mouth?"

"Simple: because I'm not a narrow minded, arrogant fool." Reizo seized one simple Cloud ninja headband from the rack of spares and thrust it into his jacket pocket. "Goodbye Zakari."

"_You think that's it do you?_"

The sound of a whole desk being kicked away and the swish of a single blade being withdrawn made Reizo whirl around to face the younger man as Zakari's anger reached its limits. The markings on his hands begun to glow a powerful electric blue, signifying the initiation of the clan's Kekkei Genkai.

"_Raikyogan!_"

Reizo only smiled to himself upon seeing his family's dojutsu turned against him for the first time; Zakari's eyes had warped into shining orbs complete with four tiny pillars of lightning extending out from each iris as his sword hissed thunderous sparks like an eposed length of wire. "You're looking for a fight? I'm warning you Zakari, your power doesn't even compare to my own."

"_Well we'll just see about that!_"

With his distant cousin approaching fast Reizo withdrew what at first appeared to be an odd ninja tool for purposes unknown to Zakari. A silver spike mounted atop a two foot long handle of steel suddenly appeared in the right hand of the Jonin, though with a quick jerk of his wrist the tool's purpose became clear. The weapon lengthened and snapped firm with Reizo's swing into a solid six foot pole topped with a jagged spike as the man flourished the spear into a combat stance, ready to take on any assault. If the weapon's surprise appearance hadn't been enough, Reizo had yet another trick to wow his conceited relative.

He smoothly glided away from Zakari's lazy and hatred fuelled swing of the sword before leaning into a powerful kick to knock the man out of the room and into the lobby area containing the now familiar spiral staircase. After crashing through a handful of wooden tables Zakari eventually managed to groan himself to his feet, letting his eyes wander back up to his opponent just in time to see Reizo roll up the blue sleeves of his jacket.

Through Raikyogan-enhanced vision it was clear for Zakari to see; along with the usual lightning bolt on the back of Reizo's hands, similar markings of a tribal nature were faintly etched all the way up the Jonin's forearm to stop at his elbow, which could only mean one thing.

"You. . ." Zakari stammered. "You've got-"

"That's right, _Daimyo Raikyogan!_"

There was no trick here – a surge of blue colour washed over not only the bolts upon his hands, but also the strange designs racing up his forearm as his eyes warped into a thunderstorm far more intense than Zakari's own.

"The Daimyo Raikyogan," whispered the sensei. "Bestowed to only one in fifteen members of the Zawa clan – only three people that possess it are alive today. Are you meaning to tell me that you're one of them?"

Reizo nodded calmly. "Well at least you're not completely uneducated. Did you know that the human body doesn't just possess an _internal_ bioelectric current? The Daimyo Raikyogan gives its users enough control to be able to manipulate the external bioelectric _field _that the body constantly puts out. In other words, I'm not just limited to point blank range."

"_What?_"

"_Lightning Javelin!_"

Zakari launched himself up the spiral staircase another floor up to avoid being fried by the incoming thunderous lance that Reizo had suddenly blasted from his free hand.

"Had enough already?"

Zakari turned to see that the agile Jonin had somehow appeared behind him, still with his spear in hand and eyes aglow with a powerful blue light. "Never!" he roared, and with that, Zakari charged once again for his elder.

Instead of blasting him from afar though, Reizo instead opted to let the man come. Zakari struck out three times with the bladed weapon only to have it knocked back three times again by the incomprehensible speed of Reizo's spear. Using the Daimyo Raikyogan, Reizo had achieved such a mastery of both his internal and external bioelectricity that he used it on an unconscious level to quicken his speed whenever it was active. His movements became increasingly difficult to follow even as Zakari pulled out all the stops and let fly his fiercest combinations. After the first few exchanges he even forgot about attacking the vital spots highlighted to him by the Raikyogan and instead focused all his efforts into just getting an attack in.

"Pitiful." Reizo mused. In a single rapid movement he suddenly wheeled up the shaft of his augmented spear to deliver a perfect connection to Zakari's temple, sending a buzz of electricity through his head using only the blunt side of the pole. Had he not possessed the Raikyogan Zakari would've been zapped into a coma from such a strike, though he quickly devoted all his attention to spreading the surge of electricity in an even dispersal throughout his body, all the while letting his guard down and allowing the Jonin to spin another angular kick into his chest.

As Zakari skidded hard across the room he used the edge of his blade to slow himself down and prevent from slamming into the wall, though by the time he'd gotten to his feet Reizo had kicked him hard back across the room.

"You're a traitor!" cried Zakari, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "To be blessed with such a powerful gift and support such a worthless kid; it's unthinkable! You might drop me from the ranks of the ninja, but don't you see you'll only be dropping yourself from the ranks of your own family?"

"Unlike you Zakari, I know that it's not the Raikyogan that fuels my power – there are other ways to be strong, and Shoryu understands that better than any. I have a whole arsenal of jutsu at my disposal that you couldn't even begin to comprehend. At any rate, I don't care to belong to a clan that rejects its own members for something they can't control."

Zakari staggered once again to his feet, shaking not only from hit by the Raikyogan but also from his uncontrollable rage. Once again he made an odd had sign not of the twelve basic seals; it was his genjutsu – the most powerful technique in Zakari's arsenal that he'd used on poor Shoryu.

"_Ninja Art: House of Devil's Truth!_"

"_Release!_"

No sooner had Reizo felt a presence pushing against his mind did he swiftly repel it with a chakra far greater and more potent. He didn't even blink; his glowing, Raikyogan eyes never shut – he'd batted the genjutsu aside like it was nothing.

"Your cheap tricks won't work on me. Surrender and you might leave here with just your pride wounded."

Despite the wise words of the Jonin, Zakari had heard enough. He charged for a third time at the more powerful ninja, dragging him into a complex exchange of Raikyogan-powered attacks. Sparks of blue flew from each metallic surface with every clash of their weapons in a high speed trade of blows, and for a while it seemed that in his blind aggression the sensei might actually be pushing Reizo back. It was only as he placed even more pressure on his frenzied offensive did Zakari realise that it had all been a ruse to catch him off guard.

Reizo effortlessly ducked under the poorly timed swing of his cousin's sword and brought up a powerful knee, driving right into Zakari's stomach with a force so powerful that the circuit-like glow faded from the sensei's eyes and hands. He finished with another spinning whack using the blunt side of his spear to hurl Zakari right out of the main hall and onto the second story balcony the regular students had used for the projectile phase of the exam.

Rain pounded from the skies, soaking Zakari within an instant with his downed back already drenched from the puddle he'd been thrown into. Impressively though, he was still conscious, and he gasped for breath after having his lungs flattened with the force of his enemy's knee. Splashing footsteps drawing nearer told him that Reizo had come, probably to finish him off.

"It's over." Said the Jonin.

After taking another ten attempts to steady his breath Zakari forced himself with trembling arms back onto all fours. "What's over? . ." he gasped. "You think I'm gonna let you get away with this? This battle is far from over!" even with his breathing so heavy and his body so drained, the sensei was still determined to punish Reizo for his transgressions.

Reizo only smiled to himself before speaking after a few moments. "You really don't understand that power at all do you? It amazes me how you got to Chunin level and you still don't know the one grave weakness of the Raikyogan."

"What are you talking about?" Demanded Zakari. "Start making sense!"

"You're not bad with the Raikyogan, but your problem is that you rely on it too heavily. Aside from you genjutsu that I can deflect with ease, it's the only thing you use in combat isn't it? As drenched as we both are right now, using the Raikyogan could be fatal. Water is a natural conductor of electricity - one spark from your hand with the state you're in and you could kill yourself in an instant."

Zakari's eyes widened in fear upon realising that the Jonin was right; Raikyogan would be a bad idea out here in the rain. "But the same applies for you right? That makes us even!"

"Earth Style! Stone Impact Jutsu!" Answering Zakari's remark with a quick series of hand signs and a cry of his technique, Reizo suddenly caused the ground beneath the fraudulent sensei to spring up into a solid uppercut to Zakari's chin, smashing him hard enough so that he flipped backwards in the air before landing on his chest an instant later.

"I told you already. I don't even need the Daimyo Raikyogan to beat you; I've plenty of my own jutsu. Anyway, I've had enough. If you keep this up you'll die, so I recommend you don't follow me."

With that, Reizo turned his back and calmly strolled back into the academy, leaving Zakari in a pool of rain, blood and his own pity. Once inside he heard the distinct cackling of what sounded like a damaged machine followed by an ear-splitting scream that echoed loudly around the village. Reizo knew what had happened without even bothering to turn and check. In his rage Zakari had activated the Raikyogan again despite the Jonin's warnings and had been shocked with every volt of his own bioelectricity and left himself for dead out in the cold. Despite his loathing for the man, Reizo noted that he'd contact the medical corps if he was still alive in an hour's time. For now however, he had somewhere else he needed to be.

* * *

Shoryu sat amidst the soaking grass of his mountaintop hideout, watching the flood of torrential rain cry from the heavens as lightning cracked the sky on the horizon. He hadn't been home yet – he'd been sitting there for hours, drenched to the bone and left with his own misery since he hadn't the heart to face his mother. She knew he'd be up here, but even still she didn't interfere, knowing that he'd rather be left alone. Of course she was unaware of the three stab wounds that he'd dug into his muscles and had slowly drained him of blood for the last few hours; if she'd have known that, things would be different.

He'd bandaged himself up with the dilapidated rags of his bandanna, having to tear it into multiple parts in order to cover the full extent of his injuries, but after doing so he'd spend the following hours wondering why. He didn't care anymore; as far as Shoryu was concerned he was no good to anyone – he'd never make it in life, so what good did it do for him to be alive? He'd never be able to live out his dream as long as people like Zakari kept bringing him down.

With the roar of the howling wind and the heavy shower of rain pounding against the Village, Shoryu didn't hear the squelching of another's footsteps until they were right behind him. Wearily he turned his head, though he snapped back into the world upon realising that it was Reizo – one of his oppressive clan members, who stood towering over him.

"Nice hair. You really do stick out from the Zawa clan don't you?"

"What do you want? Come to gloat?" Murmured the boy, turning back to face the view of the great storm. "Well go ahead."

"I'm not here to gloat Shoryu." Informed Reizo.

"Right, sure. . ." Shoryu shook his head. "How did you find me up here anyway?"

"Your mother told me. She's worried about you Shoryu."

The boy hung his head in remorse. He knew she'd be beside herself in worry, but even with that she knew he just wanted space to himself. "I know. . ." He said; his voice with a faint hint of regret. "What do you want anyway? I failed didn't I? Just leave me be – I don't need to hear whatever words of pity you might have."

Reizo sighed as he took a seat beside the youngster amidst the soaking wet grass. "I think we both know you didn't really fail that exam." He said.

"Well what difference does it make?" Shoryu's hands suddenly balled up into fists so tight that his nails drew blood from his palms, and in frustration he carried on. "No matter how hard I try it always ends the same – whether I'm a bad ninja or a good one doesn't matter as long as the clan gets their way."

"So then, I guess you'd be happy to hear that as of tomorrow, Zakari Takazawa is no longer a shinobi of the Hidden Cloud. In fact something tells me that he couldn't be one if he tried for a while in the condition he's in."

"Huh?" gasped Shoryu. For the first time, the boy looked up and met the Jonin's gaze with an expression of perplexity.

Reizo sighed again and lounged back on his elbows in the sludgy grass before continuing. "We fought back at the academy. We had. . ." The man paused, searching for the right words. "Conflicting ideas about you."

"But. . . Isn't he one of your cousins though?"

"Well, you're one of my nephews too." Figured Reizo.

"Yeah but. . . He's-"

"What? Just because he inherited the Raikyogan and he's a lightning adept, you think that makes him better than you in my eyes? Your score for the written test should've been around sixty or seventy; you also should've got two points for ninjutsu and three for projectiles. As for the genjutsu, well it's not really been tested properly since you had a Chunin level technique thrown at you. Basically you should've been looking at nine points at least. To me that's the sign of a promising shinobi, regardless of anything else."

Shoryu froze; Reizo had exhibited the same method of thinking that he used every day of his life. He could never understand the clan's perceived superiority they had over him – couldn't they just see him for who he was? For the longest time Shoryu thought only his mother capable of such logic, but it seemed as though this man thought in the same way. He didn't care what Shoryu looked like or what he was or wasn't capable of, he just accepted him regardless of any of that.

A metallic clinking sounded as Reizo fumbled around in his jacket pocket. "We fought over this." He said, retrieving an official Cloud ninja headband, identical to the one he wore around his arm.

Shoryu's heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened in joyous surprise. It seemed too good to be true, yet the sincerity he sensed from the compassionate Jonin told him that it was so.

"Take it." He said. "I daresay you've earned it. As of this moment you're officially a Genin of the Village Hidden in the Clouds."

Shoryu almost collapsed upon being handed the honorary headgear. It was a simple piece of equipment, comprised of a white piece of cloth and a metallic surface with the symbol of the Cloud etched upon it, but the right to wear it symbolised the collaboration of all his work over the years. With trembling hands the boy tied it around his forehead, savouring every moment of his first real triumph.

"But. . . I mean – there's just one problem." Said Shoryu eventually.

"Don't worry about it." Reizo already knew what the boy was going to ask. "You're worried about being held back further when you advance right? – If you get stuck in a team with a squad leader or a fellow member from the clan then it'll just be the same thing all over again."

Shoryu nodded silently.

"Well I've a solution: You'll be in a team under me." The man revealed. "I'll be your sensei and I'll make sure you get the tutelage you deserve. I can teach you things that'll make you far stronger."

"But the squad leaders – I didn't see your name as one of them."

"It's not there. But it will be in the morning. Originally I thought I'd hang back on training a squad until I was a little older, but after seeing some of the students today there's a few ninja with great potential that I'm interested in, and you're one of them Shoryu. Starting a week from now you'll on my team along with two other shinobi. Do you think you're up to it Shoryu?"

There was no question about it – Shoryu nodded his head frantically and beamed in excitement. "Yeah! Of course! Thank you Reizo – I mean Reizo-sensei. It's an honour!" he cried.

"Good. Now let's get you to the medical corps – if you leave those wounds like that any longer they'll become infected and if you stay out here any longer you'll get pneumonia. I can't afford to have a crippled ninja on my squad you know."

"Right!"

* * *

"Mom! Mom! Mom!"

Being the overly protective soul that she was, the first thing that Yuuko noticed when Shoryu came running in near the stroke of midnight was not the headband of the Cloud shinobi, but the mess of the boy's blood-soaked clothing. "Shoryu what happened?" She cried, rushing over to him.

"Oh, that?" In excitement Shoryu had completely forgotten about his torn pants and the grizzly wounds that had been recently sealed. "I stabbed myself in trying to get out of a genjutsu – it's fine now, the lady said I'd be walking properly again in the next few days, but I might have some scars afterwards."

"_What?"_

"But it's okay mom! Look!" Shoryu proudly jerked his thumb to the headband upon his forehead, gleaming under the light. "I passed! And it's all thanks to Reizo-sensei!"

"Don't sell yourself so short kid, you passed all by yourself." Said Reizo, who calmly followed the boy, having to duck under the doorway with his taller height.

As Shoryu happily flung himself into his mother's arms she smiled and turned graciously to her guest. "It was Zakari wasn't it?" She guessed. "He's gone too far this time."

"It's alright now though mom! Honest! See, he tried to fail me again, so Reizo-sensei beat him up!"

Yuuko let out a small gasp of surprise upon hearing the news. Like Shoryu, she thought it unthinkable that a member of the Zawa would support Shoryu over Zakari. "Bless you." She said at last. "I'm glad to see there's still some compassion amongst the clan."

"Don't thank me; the kid's got talent – it really doesn't matter to me whether he's from the clan or not."

"But. . . What you must've risked – you're the clan's prodigy right? When they find out-"

"-I really don't care what they do." Reizo interrupted. "If siding with Shoryu puts me in the same exiled position as him, then I don't care to be a part of it."

Again Yuuko seemed surprised as she nodded understandingly. The clan was full of self-righteous and arrogant shinobi, but this man was different – he saw the world from a very un-Zawa viewpoint, something which she thought impossible, especially for someone who'd inherited such a rare strain of the Kekkei Genkai. "He keeps calling you sensei; are you taking him under your wing?"

Reizo nodded. "Yes. I'm putting a team together with Shoryu and two other Genin who I haven't decided on yet. You don't have to worry about him Yuuko; as long as I'm around I'll prevent anything like the events of today from happening ever again. With any luck, give the boy a few years and he'll be a great shinobi – one that the clan will feel foolish for ever rejecting in the first place. Perhaps that at least will make them reconsider their ways." As Yuuko bowed her head and Shoryu parted from her, Reizo turned to address him directly. "Like I said before, we'll have our first exercise a week from today, so you make sure you get better and practice on your techniques before then. I'll only be recruiting the best shinobi, so you'll have a hell of a lot of competition within the squad to keep you on your toes."

"Right!" This time Shoryu's resolve was concrete; he was through with training at only seventy percent effort – he had to be on top form and work himself twice as hard in order to keep up with his rival shinobi, and most importantly, to prove to Reizo-sensei that he'd made the right choice in believing in him.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Heya guys, hope you like the new chapter, I thought it was about time for a proper ninja battle, especially just to show how awesome Reizo is. And before I get accused of something, I know he's very Kakashi-esque in his whole persona, but there's a reason for that. . . Kakashi's f***ing cool! _

_Anyway, I thought I had to give the Raikyogan some kind of weakness since it seems a little overpowered at first, and I guess rain and water makes sense for it. Funilly enough I got the idea from watching one of the filler seasons in Shippuden: During the three-tails arc towards the end, there's a scene with Kakashi and the others fighting one of the bad guys, _AND HE USES RAIKIRI UNDERWATER_. Naturally I was like 'WTF he'd kill himself and everyone in the water with him!', so I included it as a weakness for this thing :)_

_The rest of the main cast is coming in next chapter, so I'll see you then? :)  
_


	4. Chapter 4 Embarrassing Defeat

Chapter 4: Embarrassing Defeat

One Week Later

This time, Shoryu wouldn't need the ladders. The boy flipped from the edge of his small encampment and skidded feet first down the near-vertical rock face before tactfully grabbing hold of a fixed stone and swinging himself around as he hopped from one foothold to another. After less than a minute he'd reached the bottom without a scratch, and in looking back up at the forty foot wall he'd descended Shoryu smiled to himself in satisfaction and set off towards the academy.

As the boy walked leisurely through the maze-like walkways of the village he enjoyed the freedom of the cool breeze blowing through his hair and ruffling it into an even bigger mess. He'd always hated having it on display since it separated him from the other members of his clan, but with the confidence that came with becoming a Genin and the self-esteem he'd earned from Reizo, he now displayed it with pride.

He whistled a merry tune as he strolled; despite Shoryu working himself harder than ever, he'd enjoyed this week more than he had any in his life. The happiness from the acceptance of just one person aside from his mother still hadn't worn off, and he'd used it to fuel his training to push himself far beyond his regular limits. Of course, he knew that with his distinctly average natural talent as a ninja he'd be at a huge loss when compared to the 'most promising shinobi' Reizo said would be joining them, so he'd worked extra hard to try and catch up within the week.

Shoryu had received a summons two days after receiving his headband that had told him to come one of the rooms on the second floor of the academy fifteen minutes from now. Sure enough, he'd been assigned to squad thirteen led by Reizo Yukizawa, and his partners consisted of two names he didn't recognise. If only to boost his confidence further he'd been surprised to learn that of the twenty four candidates for this term's exam, only nine people had actually passed the test. Originally eleven had made the cut, but since the students were divided into three-man squads the weakest two had been dropped in order to round down to the nearest multiple of three.

After the calming stroll Shoryu eventually found himself under the shadow of the colossal academy and entering the front doors into the classroom he'd always hated. As he made through the room he passed three other people – a team of newly announced Genin who'd been told to meet here by their own squad leader. As he passed, the boy noticed the glaring eyes of one of the two clan members from his old class. Evidently, the other one hadn't passed. Despite himself Shoryu couldn't help but flash the brat a taunting smirk before continuing into the next room and ascending the spiral staircase.

Once there, Shoryu found himself in a similar looking room than the last, filled with only two people around his age.

The first was a rather beautiful girl of a lean frame and a pleasant smile upon seeing their third member. She was clad rather plainly in the standard kunoichi uniform of the Village Hidden in the Clouds, dyed yellow with a blue trim out of her own preference. He recognised her instantly as the girl with the bright green hair that had asked Zakari about the maximum number of points on the day of the exam. Funnily enough though, her hair today was red and was arrayed in a simple ponytail instead of cascading down to her shoulders as it had been previously. Shoryu shook his head and told himself he must've just been imagining it.

"You're Shoryu right?" She said, smiling sweetly and extending her hand. "I'm Ayako Tsuji."

Shoryu smiled sheepishly and accepted the shake, noticing that whilst his hands were rough and leathery from all his training, hers were still softer than an infant's. "It's a pleasure." He replied. Shoryu noted that at least one of his teammates was friendly, though in turning to the other he realised that she'd probably be the only one.

The second member of the team sat by himself, coolly absorbed in thought atop one of the many identical tables laid out neatly across the room. Flowing white hair contrasted against the darkest violet of his tightly cut attire - an outfit that bore no skin and managed to look imposing and regal whilst still being suitable for fighting in. He carried some odd kind of weapon laid across the table behind him, sheathed at both sides to conceal its blades with a long handle at the centre.

"Hey." Said Shoryu, with his voice forcing the boy to open his eyes and snap him out of what appeared to be meditation. "I'm Shoryu."

The boy only turned his head in silence, completely blanking his gracious new partner.

"You know when someone introduces themselves you're supposed to do the same back right?" Shoryu took a moment to bite his tongue and cringe in awkwardness before continuing – He still didn't reply. "I'm Shoryu Aizawa, what's your name?" He reiterated.

With a slight breath of interest the boy turned back to Shoryu and raised his eyebrows in intrigue. "Aizawa? That means you're from this village's clan right?"

The boy's first words struck a nerve with Shoryu; he tried hard to contain his anger, but his clear resentment could be felt as he continued. "So you'll talk to me now that you know that? Does that make me worthy or something? You know I really don't think it makes a difference whether I'm from the clan or not. What, do you think that it just automatically makes me a better person?"

The white-haired boy let his eyes roll up to his head as he considered, and after a few moments he shrugged. "Never really thought about it." He admitted smugly.

Just as Shoryu's mouth formed into an irritated growl the sound of footsteps coming up the spiral staircase signified the appearance of the group's Jonin leader.

"Alright alright, we don't need you two fighting each other just yet – save it until later." Came Reizo's voice.

"Hey Reizo-sensei!" cried Shoryu.

"Hey kid. You look a lot healthier than the last time I saw you."

Shoryu grinned in triumph; his training had paid off not just in his jutsu, but in his physical appearance too. He was far more moderately proportioned as opposed the skinny runt he used to be and packed far more power behind his strikes.

Reizo calmly pulled up a chair from the tables and sat himself down before finally addressing the others. "Looks like everyone's here." He figured. "Alright, why don't you start by introducing yourselves, just so you know one another. You'll be working as a team from now on, so good communication is vital."

Shoryu and Ayako each nodded as the boy at the back merely sighed, as if just speaking was such a chore for him.

"What do we say though?" asked Ayako.

"You know: what you like, what you hate, personal goals, your background – all that stuff. Why don't we start with Shoryu?"

"Me?" Shoryu bashfully put a hand to his head as he struggled for an answer. "Alright." He said at last. "I'm Shoryu Aizawa, and I come from right here in the Village Hidden in the Clouds. I like. . ." the boy let his eyes wander upwards, contemplating on what exactly he enjoyed. "Walking. . . Getting stronger. . . And I guess my mom's cooking. I hate loud noises, especially in the morning, and judgemental people. My dream is to save up enough money so that I can travel the world; you know – go wherever the wind takes me for awhile and be free from any responsibilities."

Whilst Ayako smiled again, the boy at the back made a snort of disapproval and turned his head once again.

"Oh right, I suppose you have a problem with that do you?" Figured Shoryu, trying to remain as sarcastically witty as possible.

"Shoryu settle down." The sensei's firm request cut off any potential retort the boy at the back might've had, and with his most respected idol giving him an order Shoryu reluctantly turned back to the front. Reizo continued, looking to Ayako for the next speech. "Alright, how about you?"

"Uh, okay." Ayako blushed; it was easy to recite such easy questions, but talking in front of other people about herself made her uncomfortable. "I'm Ayako Tsuji, and I'm also from the Village. I like reading, changing my hair and shading. I hate being bored, I hate vegetables. . . Oh and I also _really_ hate perverts."

Shoryu gulped and reminded himself to keep his eyes on her face at all times as Reizo quizzed her further. "And what's your dream?" He asked.

"Oh yeah, to be the Raikage of course!"

Three sets of eyebrows were suddenly raised upon hearing the young girl's big ambitions for the future. To Shoryu, she didn't look threatening or even capable of fighting at all, but she had to be on this team for a reason; Reizo had told him that he'd be recruiting only the most excellent shinobi after all.

"That's quite a goal." Said Reizo. "It looks like we share the same dream."

"Just one question. What do you mean by shading?" Shoryu asked.

Ayako seemed about to answer him before Reizo swiftly cut her off. "I've a feeling you'll see soon enough Shoryu. Anyway how about you?"

Shoryu and Ayako both turned to the back as Reizo probed the mysterious white haired boy for answers. Once again he sighed.

"I'm Kazuya Takashi." He said, barely loud enough for any to hear him. "And don't take it personally, but I'd rather not discuss myself any further."

"I'm afraid it's all part of being on a team Kazuya. If you can't be open then how are your teammates supposed to rely on you?"

"Argh, fine." Kazuya exhaled again. "I'm from the Takashi clan of the Village Hidden in the Glacier in the southlands. I like learning new things and training. I hate dishonourable people, lazy people and cowards. My father disappeared back when I was five, and I've been searching for him ever since, but my real goal is to provide for my village; training as a ninja has provided me with the skills and should bring me the income I need to do both."

Shoryu contemplated making a wisecrack about the boy's daddy issues, but in the end he let it slide in light of his own and could only sit in embarrassment about how his own goals seemed insignificant to that of the others. Raikage? Providing for an entire village? They were leagues ahead of his own aspirations. At least Ayako didn't seem to mind his longing for freedom, but Kazuya on the other hand seemed to completely resent everything Shoryu had confessed about his own way of life.

"My knowledge of the Takashi clan is admittedly limited." Acknowledged Reizo. "But I do know about the Kekkei Genkai of the Ice Style and a little of its background. The Village Hidden in the Glacier - it's a small village is it not? Just on the borders to the Land of Frost. I'm led to believe that its members are divided into simple farmers and chakra wielding fighters, but they aren't ninja are they?"

Kazuya shook his head as Shoryu looked on in curiosity. He had no idea of any clan who weren't ninja and yet could manipulate chakra, though Kazuya answered his question before he could give it much thought. "They're samurai." He answered.

"I see, so they're ideology is quite different from our own then?" Reizo replied.

Kazuya nodded solemnly. "We of the Takashi clan are strict upholders of Bushido. I know certain codes of honour exist among shinobi, but don't ask me to sneak up on anyone or strike them from behind. I need my foe to see my face before they die; that is the way of my clan."

"Your life as a ninja could be a short one indeed if you aren't prepared to use deception to your advantage. We can't afford the arrogance of thinking we can take on an immeasurable amount of enemies by ourselves."

"I know that, and like I said, I'll give a certain amount of leeway, but I won't do anything that'll stain my pride as a warrior. Cheap tactics aren't my thing."

Several prolonged moments of awkward silence were allowed to spread around the room as Reizo seemed to debate with himself whether or not to argue further. This boy was technically now a shinobi, but he did not adhere to their ways. At the same time however, he simply couldn't afford to let such a promising student go; his strength should've more than made up for his unwillingness to fight with underhand tactics.

"At any rate, it's not important right now." Decided Reizo. "You're at the Genin level so you won't be asked to kill anyone or enter a difficult combat situation – those are B ranks missions or higher. If you still feel that way when you eventually make Chunin then I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but for now it's irrelevant."

Shoryu noticed Kazuya breathe a small sigh of relief as Ayako raised her hand in eagerness.

"You don't have to stick your hand up; you're not in training anymore." Reizo laughed.

"Oh uh – right. But Reizo sensei I was just wondering, you said we would have a pair of 'preliminary missions' today in your letter. What exactly did you mean by that?"

The Jonin stood and beckoned for the others to follow him, explaining the situation as he led them down the spiral staircase he'd fought upon the previous week. "By that I meant we'd have two exercises to see whether or not the three of you are capable of carrying out missions. If I deem you incapable I have the power to send you back to the academy, but the fact that you passed such a rigorous final exam means that such an event is unlikely. All the same, you should treat this with all the dedication and focus that you would a real mission."

"So uh, where exactly are we going to carry out this mission?" Asked Shoryu, noticing that the four of them had walked right out of the academy and started along one of the walkways of the village he'd never crossed before.

"To the surface – it's got all the space we need. Why? Does that bother you?"

"No no! Of course not! It's just. . ." Shoryu trailed off in awkward embarrassment. "I've never been down to the surface before."

"What?" Came the inevitable two voices; even the sombre looking, silent Kazuya appeared shocked by this revelation.

The Village Hidden in the Clouds was a mountain range comprised of numerous spires towering up into the sky, thousands of feet above the surface of the world and so high amidst a complex series of mountains that a fifteen minute shuttle ride was required to reach the ground safely. In all his life Shoryu had never taken one, and so had never actually seen the surface with his own eyes.

"Yeah. . ." Shoryu added. "Never been down; guess it's just always been on my to-do list."

"Well," Figured Reizo. "I guess there's a first time for everything, come on."

Within ten minutes of walking through a part of the Village Shoryu knew only barely, squad thirteen came to a series of ten wooden lifts, lined up in an orderly fashion within the core of a mountain. The shuttles were powered by hydraulics at several intersections along its course, hooked to a pair of wires that it would trail along smoothly until it finally reached its destination. It was a complex system at the peak of its time's technology back in the day, and it remained a convenient method of travel between the surface and the village. Hesitantly Shoryu stepped into the claustrophobic chute designed for a maximum of five people and took a seat before Reizo jerked a hanging piece of rope to slam the doors shut.

Suddenly the cart began to move and before Shoryu could ask what had happened the carriage began to descend at a rather brisk pace. Outside, the window of the closed door displayed only darkness as the four plummeted through the heart of the mountain. Reizo's eyebrows shot up in pleasant surprise upon noticing that Shoryu was holding together well; first time riders of the shuttle often freaked out or clung to others in fear, yet after a few deep breaths Shoryu merely withdrew a small object from his belt next to his small pouch of ninja tools.

It was the wooden flute he kept with him constantly; just over a foot in length with ten holes carved into its surface along the shaft and a mouthpiece at one end. Shoryu noticed Kazuya flash him a look of obvious resentment, though the moment the instrument touched his lips that look faded completely. With eyes calmly shut, Shoryu breathed a sweet, high pitched melody into the shuttle to drown out the monotonous churn of the cabin's exterior and immerse himself in the relaxing sensation of his own music. After three bars of playing Shoryu's heart rate and breathing began to return to normal, and he deemed it safe to open his eyes again to a view of Ayako looking on in wonder, Reizo smiling to himself and Kazuya back in that suspended state of meditation he'd been in before.

"That's _beautiful_." Ayako spoke in a tone of wonder and admiration. "I've never even heard such a sound. When did you learn to play that?"

Shoryu's index finger rapidly tapped up and down for a wavering note finish before he pocketed the instrument again. "Hmm. Probably just over five years ago now. Apparently my dad used to play all these different kinds of flute, so my mom gave me a few as inheritance for my eighth birthday since she could never play them."

"Inheritance? You mean. ."

"He's dead, yeah." Shoryu finished for her, noticing that whilst her head sank Kazuya's eyes flashed open to attention. "Ah, don't look so glum." He told her. "I never knew the guy – he died before I was born. All I know is that my mom said he was a great shinobi."

Ayako smiled again as Shoryu took her silence as a cue for him to keep playing. The charming tune of the flute filled the shuttle once again, this time taking a much softer and slower tempo thanks to Shoryu's calmer state. Still Kazuya stared at the object through inquisitive hazel eyes, and after awkwardly meeting them a few times with his own of a turtle green Shoryu kept his gaze focused on the window looking out onto the core of the mountain rolling by.

Despite few words being exchanged, it seemed like no time at all had passed to Shoryu before he felt the descent of the shuttle begin to slow to an eventual stop. Once again light suddenly poured in through the open window, prompting Reizo to stand and open the door, leading them out onto a wide and sloping path at the foot of the mountain they'd descended. Way up high Shoryu could see where the mountains sprouted the thin spires, and even higher still he saw the Village literally hidden amongst the clouds. If he didn't know where to look Shoryu was certain that he would've completely missed it.

"Alright, you see those fields over there?" Asked Reizo, pointing to a spot just over a mile down the barren, rocky hillside where the land smoothed out into fresh grass the likes of which Shoryu had never seen in such mass. "That's our destination."

Along a leisurely walk of about twenty five minutes Shoryu looked around in wonder and confusion at the completely different landscape. He was so used to walking on suspended bridges and mountainside paths that the concept of a straight road was hard to grasp for the first few minutes. It was only then that he begun to notice the finer differences.

"Sensei?" He asked.

"Hmm?" Reizo looked his way.

"I don't know if this is normal or anything, but I don't know how to describe it – it's like I've got more air or something, like my lungs are more open. I don't know if that makes sense."

"You're right, it _doesn't_ make any sense." Chided Kazuya.

Shoryu was moments away from a smart retort before Reizo began after a few moments to think.

"You're saying it's easier to breathe? Is that what you mean?"

Shoryu nodded; he hadn't thought of it like that since he couldn't understand that concept of his breathing being somehow restricted, but Reizo's description fitted it perfectly. "Yeah, that's right." He said.

"Well I guess it's no wonder then. It happens to many village members. For regular people, the higher up they go in altitude, the harder it is to breathe. In your case, since you've lived up in the Village your entire life and you've never seen the surface, the higher altitude has become not just your norm, but your only way of life."

"So is that bad?" Shoryu asked.

Reizo shook his head. "No, in fact it'll work to your advantage. Many village members find that they have a little more stamina than before – being able to run farther and train for longer. In your case it'll be even greater since your whole body has actually matured up there without knowing anything else. Don't expect anything drastic; you've probably got an extra fifteen percent more endurance than usual, twenty at best. Then again every advantage counts when you're a shinobi, so consider yourself lucky."

Shoryu understood, noting that the lightness of his breath would be advantage, but not something to rely on. Any extra power he could get would help; now that he was in a squad he had to show he could hack it – he refused to be sent back to the academy. Whatever this test entailed he would ace it no matter what. Reizo had said he'd be hiring only the most elite shinobi, and from the mystique of his teammate Kazuya he wondered exactly how much power the guy was packing. Ayako didn't seem like much on the surface; she was a spunky yet mildly shy girl with an optimistic outlook, but if he remembered one thing from lessons it was that underestimating a fellow ninja was a bad idea.

Squad thirteen carried on walking for another five minutes until the earthy gravel beneath them begun to shift into a plane of soft grass. Within a hundred metres the squad found themselves amidst the field Reizo had pointed out long ago, and with his sudden stoppage the group knew they'd reached their destination.

"Here we are." He mused absently, and then turned to address the group, falling back into a stoic and commanding persona. "Alright, your first exercise is simple."

Ayako and Shoryu leaned forwards in anticipation for the announcement.

"You will each face off against one another in a mock-battle. Provided they are sealed first, you may use any weapons you like – I don't want you killing each other."

"_What?_" came the startled cry of the two. Ayako in particular looked especially confused.

"Sensei, aren't we supposed to be a team now? How come we're fighting each other?"

"Simple." Said Reizo. "I need to test your skills in battle. The graduation test was thorough but there were many aspects of combat that it simply couldn't cover. This way you won't be forced to conform to academy norms and you'll be able to use your own styles in conjunction with one another rather than at separate intervals. On top of that you're new and influential Genin, so you'll go all out unless you want to look bad in front of your teammates. No one likes being the weak link now do they?"

Shoryu wasn't quite sure what to make of this new revelation; a chance to prove his skills was exactly what he'd been waiting for and he wanted to show that Kazuya guy what he could do more than anyone. Nothing would give him greater pleasure than smacking him right in his smug, self righteous face. But even so, he felt uneasy about going up against that strange boy, especially after noticing that he had a contented gleam in his eye after Reizo's announcement.

_Alright Shoryu just focus – you can do this if you keep it together._

"The first battle will be Shoryu against Kazuya."

Shoryu felt a lurch in his throat as he immediately locked eyes with his brand new rival in a brief staredown of mutual anticipation. Even Ayako could see the pair seemed to have something to prove to both themselves and one another, and there was no better way to get it out of their system by pitting them against one another right off the bat.

"Fair enough." Said Shoryu. "This should be interesting. I actually can't wait."

"Uh, Shoryu, before you go shooting your mouth I think it's only fair to warn you:" Added Reizo. "Kazuya was the only person in the graduation test to get a perfect score – he got the bonus point for every single round, giving him a total of fifteen to end on."

"_Fifteen?_" Cried Shoryu in dismay. "He got _fifteen?_ _No way! _How is that even possible?"

"Why? What did you get?" Inquired Ayako.

"Uhh," Shoryu twiddled his fingers before scratching his head awkwardly. He knew that his test score had no doubt been upped from a meagre five to allow him to pass, but by how much exactly?

"He got a six." Stated Reizo.

Of course, Shoryu suspected as much: they didn't want to kick up too much of a fuss about his situation, so giving him a minimum pass was the easiest possible way.

"So you _only just _passed? And you think you can beat me? I thought you said I'd be on a team with the best Reizo-sensei; this guy's a joke." Said Kazuya.

After flashing Kazuya a look of irritancy and handing his blades over to Reizo for the imprisoning jutsu Shoryu turned to his other teammate. "What did you get Ayako?" he asked innocently. Despite immediately getting along with the girl Shoryu couldn't help but silently hope she scored another low mark.

"Oh me? I got thirteen."

"Oh uh, wow – that's great!" Shoryu smiled nervously and forced a laugh. _Thirteen? _He thought to himself._ You mean I'm on a team with members who scored thirteen and fifteen? Reizo-sensei said he reckoned my real score would be around nine or ten, but that's still nothing compared to their scores! I know he said I was supposed to be on a team with only the best, but Kazuya's right! I'm in way over my head here!_

"Ninja Art: Imprisonment Jutsu!" Ordered Reizo.

Shoryu was promptly handed back his two blades and three windmill shuriken to complete his roster of weapons. Since last week he'd upped the amount of windmill shuriken he carried from two to three. In reality he could conveniently fit four, but being a large instrument, windmill shuriken were heavy. With the increase in strength he'd gained over the week he could now carry three without them weighing him down so much, but four still caused a slight strain and hindered his speed.

The boy was surprised to see that Kazuya carried no shuriken or senbon or kunai knives, but instead carried nothing but his unique sword, edged at both ends with its handle at the centre. Shoryu had to once again remind himself that despite being a Genin, wearing a headband and currently living in the village, Kazuya didn't consider himself to be a ninja. Shoryu took note of it to use as a potential advantage, for he'd need all the help he could get to take on perfect score boy.

"Alright, I want each of you to stand at the centre of the field and take twenty paces away from one another." Reizo instructed.

Noticing a wry grin from Kazuya, Shoryu immediately switched into his game-face as he followed the white haired samurai and did as instructed. Within thirty seconds he found himself standing opposite the boy, who was stood casually and out of stance as if Shoryu was nothing more than a minor inconvenience to him. Though Shoryu knew better; he knew that this was just a mind game – a facade by the boy to taunt him into attacking recklessly.

"When you're ready. . ." Announced Reizo, savouring the drawn out silence as Shoryu took his stance. "Begin!"

Instantly Kazuya fell into a pattern of difficult and unconventional hand signs as Shoryu let a hand hover behind his belt for easy access to his shuriken. Neither moved from their spot, though whilst Kazuya executed hand signs Shoryu only stood in anticipation. He wanted to see exactly what his opponent could do first before adapting his style to suit the fight.

_I'll let him make the first move_. He figured.

Ten long and excruciating seconds passed with Kazuya keeping a steady eye fixed upon his opponent in case Shoryu decided to attack. He never did, resulting in a growing smirk from the conceited samurai. After executing more than twenty hand signs in rapid succession Shoryu finally gave in and retrieved the first windmill shuriken. With a swift jerk of his wrist the curved blade fanned open to its full size, though by the time he pitched into a throw Kazuya's hands snapped into the final hand sign. His eyes blinked from their regular hazel to a black and white spiral pattern, signifying the initiation of his technique. Just like the Zawa and Raikyogan, this guy had a dojutsu of his own.

"_Vortex Shift: Time Slow Jutsu!_"

Before Shoryu could even consider the implications of such a powerful sounding technique Kazuya seemed to disappear into a blurry afterimage, racing at a hundred miles an hour across the short flat of land that separated the two and stopping a fraction of a second later. Shoryu barely had time to even blink; the boy had covered ground so fast that his guard hadn't even been brought half up before the blocked edge of Kazuya's staff-sword had been pressed to his neck, submitting him on the first move.

"Well that was short." Mused Reizo. "Winner: Kazuya."

"Poor Shoryu. That was embarrassing_._"Ayako pitied, loud enough so that only the Jonin could hear.

_What? What the hell was that? _Wondered a dumbfounded Shoryu as Kazuya removed the yielding weapon and sheathed it again, muttering something that sounded like 'joke'. _How did he-_

"You took too much time Shoryu." Reizo tutored him in his answer. "You can't afford the luxury of offering your opponent the first move – if you see someone executing that many hand signs then you have to interrupt the jutsu before they can pull it off."

Shoryu growled in frustration, curling his fists into air-tight balls. _Damn it! How the hell didn't I see that? That was pitiful! I should've acted sooner – I practically offered him that match on a silver platter! But what _was _that jutsu? I know Reizo said he possessed a Kekkei Genkai, but something on that level is insane!_

"So." Offered Reizo as Kazuya returned to the ringside. "It really is true. You have two Kekkei Genkai after all."

"Wait, _two?_" Quizzed Shoryu. He couldn't believe his ears; this kid had been blessed with a _pair_ of Kekkei Genkai when he'd been denied even one. At least now he knew why Reizo-sensei had chosen to put the two of them on the same team.

"Yes. Kazuya here not only possesses the Ice Style jutsu of the Takashi clan, but he also has another – an undocumented dojutsu that allows him to manipulate the speed of time surrounding him - the move that you were unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of. There are no other known users aside from the one, and I'm presuming he inherited it from his father; a man that went missing years ago. Isn't that right Kazuya?"

The boy cracked a smile. "Very perceptive Reizo-sensei. I see that the Jonin rank isn't just for show after all."

Reizo nodded and continued hypothesising. "If I had to guess, I'd say it's not even a combination of elements – it's a unique ability. Furthermore, the amount you can slow down time is determined by the amount of hand signs you can put out, going in multiples of five. After ten hand signs you checked to see if Shoryu was still unresponsive, and then again at fifteen and twenty you hesitated, contemplating on whether or not to go further before stopping at twenty five, which I'm guessing is the technique's maximum."

"I'm impressed you could deduce so much from only seeing it once Reizo-sensei, but if I didn't know any better I'd say you were exposing the workings behind my power on purpose to even the odds in my fight with Ayako."

Reizo cheerily laughed and put a hand to his head. "Guilty." He admitted. "But something tells me you'll be able to see much of Ayako's power in the next match anyway – as a samurai you're into fairness right? Since Shoryu used up no chakra or stamina in the last match he'll be the one facing Ayako next. I'm sure that dojutsu uses up far more chakra than you let on, so we'll give you a rest."

Shoryu still hadn't moved from his spot where Kazuya had submitted him when Ayako walked into the field and assumed her position forty paces away. He bit his tongue awkwardly at the idea of fighting such a nice girl so soon. In fact he debated holding back before almost physically slapping himself – he should've been doing the opposite. With thirteen points to pass the exam with, Ayako couldn't possibly have been weak; he'd have to pull out all the stops if he wanted to beat her and rid himself of the shame of the pathetic excuse for a battle he'd just lost.

"Don't hold back Ayako." Instructed Reizo. "You can't afford to underestimate Shoryu even despite that last fight. Just be careful with those blues okay?"

"Right!" Ayako nodded, smiling sweetly and dropping into stance.

Before Shoryu even had time to ask what the hell a 'blue' was Reizo announced the match, demanding his full attention back on the battlefield.

"_Begin_!"

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Yeah, I_'_m a sucker for little cliffhangers. But it's not all bad news: I know that fight was pathetically short (that was kinda the point of it), but the next two are going to be considerably longer - chapters 5 and 6 will cover the battles of Shoryu VS Ayako and Ayako VS Kazuya respectively, but making you guys wait a whole month for two brawls with no meaty plot and just character development seems cruel, so I'll knuckle down and post them both at the same time, two weeks from now_. _Also I'll make sure to get a picture of Shoryu up on my profile before that time._

_So be honest, how do you like the new characters? I was really worried about distinguishing Kazuya from Sasuke, so I made him a samurai (If you haven't seen all of Shippuden - yes they do exist in the world of Naruto) which as such makes him a bit more polite. Not to Shoryu - he hates the poor bastard (For reasons not yet explained), but for example he addresses Reizo as 'Reizo-sensei' when talking to him, whereas Sasuke didn't show the same respect towards Kakashi_.

_Ayako hasn't had much development yet and to be honest she's the one I'm struggling with the most: Her signature jutsu (which you'll see in the next chapter) is probably the best I've made, but her character is just a little hard to nail down, so I gave her very high ambitions (Like being the Raikage.)_

_And I held off mentioning this until now, but each of the three main cast has a first name that means something. Here are the translations:_

Kazuya - 'Calm Peace'

Ayako - 'Colour Child' (_I'm British and we spell words like 'colour/color' differently_ - _it's not a typo :P)_

Shoryu - 'Soaring Dragon'

_Make of them what you will_, _they may be significant or not. You'll just have to wait and see :P_


	5. Chapter 5 The Shading Jutsu

Chapter 5: The Shading Jutsu

This time Shoryu refused to be caught off guard. With Reizo's initiation of the match Ayako instantly fell into a pattern of hand signs, but not before Shoryu could flare out the windmill shuriken and hurl it her way with all the speed he could muster. The girl managed only three hand signs before her jutsu was interrupted by the oncoming projectile, forcing her to swerve out of the way and start over from scratch. It had been a near miss, though the look on Shoryu's face told her that he was hardly fazed by her dodge, instead he only snuck his hands again behind his back, presumably to retrieve another shuriken.

After finally initiating all five hand signs of her jutsu, Ayako's fingers intertwined into yet another gesture he'd never seen before as her signature jutsu presented itself.

"_Ninja Art: Shading Jutsu!_" She announced.

Shoryu braced himself to adapt to a whole new technique he'd never seen before, though to his surprise no effect came right away. Ayako separated her hands and began to fumble behind her back for a few moments before flicking away three elastic bands. A collection of three scrolls strapped to the rear of her belt then opened, cascading down like a multicoloured cape and stopping at her heels. To his surprise none of the scrolls contained writing for a summoning jutsu; in fact they were all blank aside from the different base colours – the first was red, the second yellow and the third blue.

Shoryu flinched as she threw out her arms in front of her, though again no attack blasted away. Instead, the red scroll dangling from her belt was suddenly drained from one of its corners, shifting into glittering light and seeping into the palms of her hands. With a clap of her hands to synthesize the coloured energy, Ayako suddenly began her attack.

"_Red!_" She cried. The girl then threw out her right hand as a brilliant burst of crimson light erupted from it, racing as what Shoryu could only describe as a firework towards him at high speeds. To her surprise however, Shoryu never made a move to avoid the burning hot stream of light right away. Instead he withdrew his arms from behind his back, showing that his right hand was fixed into a hand sign that he then pointed downwards.

_What? He made a hand sign behind his back?_ Ayako wondered, and in her moment of confusion she noticed a growing shadow pooling at her feet, forcing her to look up and straight into the path of Shoryu's windmill shuriken coming back around for another pass. With only a moment to spare Ayako swerved out of the way, and Shoryu stepped out of the firework's flightpath in her moment of distraction. Shoryu pointed his right index back to his own direction as the shuriken changed course. It sailed back towards the boy before he slowed it with an outstretched palm and then caught it skilfully.

_I get it; he can change the direction of his shuriken by re-establishing control over it in midflight with his chakra. . . I'll have to watch out for that. _Observed Ayako, absorbing this time two fistfuls of blue from the scroll hanging from her belt. She clapped her hands again, throwing her left hand forwards.

"_Blue!"_

This time, rather than the volatile blur of chaotic energy the red displayed, the blue instead manifested itself as a sharp javelin, hurtling at an even greater speed towards Shoryu. The boy darted nimbly out of the way and began to sprint across the forty yards of grass separating them, flipping and swerving past streams of the same red fireworks and blue spears as Ayako shaded more colour from her rolls of disintegrating paper. Judging from her first two attacks being executed at a distance and the fact that she was particularly lean in frame, Shoryu had correctly calculated that she played to long and mid-range combat, using the red and blue scrolls to attack from afar.

He drew the shoto and batted away an oncoming blue before ducking under a second and unsheathing his main blade. With the torrent of following reds denying him access to the sides Shoryu gracefully flipped backwards to avoid being blasted. He landed with another deflection of the solid blues and resumed his run to close the gap between the two. He brought the first blade up with a vertical swipe to the sound of yet another clap.

"_Yellow!_"

Upon Ayako's cry a transparent shield of the most vivid yellow manifested in front of her, resulting in Shoryu's sword hitting nothing but a glasslike barrier. The yellow cracked just a little at its surface, but the shield still held firm before Ayako released it and clapped her hands again for another volley of reds, forcing Shoryu out of close quarters.

* * *

"Sensei. That jutsu; what is it? I've never seen anything like it." Kazuya asked at the sidelines. "Is it a Kekkei Genkai?"

Reizo shook his head as he watched the battle return to a distanced range. "No. It's a secret jutsu passed down from through families, with only a select few still existing today who know of its execution. The Shading Jutsu dates back to the time of the very first Kage, back when coloured dyes didn't exist. To fashion clothing and decorations, the shading jutsu was created to allow its users to absorb natural colours and displace them onto different surfaces; they'd shade yellow from sand, blue from water and so on. Do you understand so far?"

Kazuya nodded.

"Over time the ninja learned to wield it as a weapon. Using the jutsu they can harmlessly transfer colours, but whenever Ayako claps her hands she can ignite or diffuse a primary colour with her chakra to bring out its battle properties."

"Primary colours – you mean red, blue and yellow." Kazuya presumed.

"Exactly. I hear that different branches exist, but it appears she's flawlessly mastered the basics – impressive for a rookie Genin to say the least."

* * *

"_Red!_"

With Ayako's next attack Shoryu found himself unable to dodge completely, resulting in the side of his arm suffering a grazing burn. The redhead cast him a look of worry, though a single nod of his head told her that she was okay to carry on, and so more blasts of colour streamed his way.

_This is getting me nowhere! _He cursed. _I have to attack fast or I'm done for! _He cast the single hand sign of his most basic attack and let fly with his brief moment of stillness.

"_Wind Style: Air Slash Jutsu!_"

The crescent shaped blade of wind that served as one of Shoryu's signature attacks blasted away from his outstretched palm with almost twice the intensity and speed he gained from it just a week ago. The technique collided with Ayako's own, spinning the blue into the ground and the following red off course before forcing the girl to throw up the yellow shield. He pelted forwards again and began to stream the same attacks one after the other.

With no opening to clap her hands, Ayako could only maintain the yellow shield as Shoryu closed in, and with every blast of the offensive jutsu the cracks in the shield widened. She shaded more yellow in order to strengthen the barrier and repair the cracks, though the onslaught of repeated Air Slashes made it impossible to maintain. By the time Shoryu had reached her he'd fired off eight of the techniques to weaken the barrier just enough so that a double swipe of his two blades shattered the technique into sizeable shards of broken yellow chakra. He ducked low, spun around and brought up the two blades again in the hope of landing a direct hit, but not before he heard the loud clap and found himself once again darting backwards to avoid a blast of red melting his face off.

_She's too fast! Those attacks keep me on my toes so that my openings are limited, and then whenever I get through that __defence she's quick enough to react with one of those reds to keep me at bay_.

Once again Shoryu fell back to a more reasonable distance and resumed his pattern of merely dodging her attacks as he thought back to the lessons he'd been taught as a shinobi. In the heat of battle he had to keep his cool; analysing and taking advantage of the flaws in an opponent's attack was an invaluable trait to have on the battlefield, and he knew that his strength lay in his mind rather his physical power. No jutsu was unbeatable – he just had to stay focused, read her movements and then wait for an opportunity.

Being at a suitable range made it easier for Shoryu to avoid Ayako's moves, and by simply studying her technique for a few moments he begun to notice a pattern. Just like at the start of the battle, she'd throw reds to begin with. Once Shoryu dodged the large, explosive fireworks she'd follow up with a blue javelin – since they were smaller, they were easier to evade than the reds, though Ayako's logic was to force him to move away with the red before catching him with the sharp and fast blue whilst he was off balance.

It was an impressive tactic to employ, requiring expert timing to execute and a practiced chakra control to maintain the jutsu for extended periods of time; in fact Shoryu quickly realised that if he had neglected his training in this last week he'd be finished by now due to his much slower reflexes back then. But still, there was one potential flaw that he saw in her attack. The fiery haired girl would absorb colours from the disintegrating scrolls fixed to her back; if he could see how much she was packing he'd have an idea of how to catch her once she ran dry. But with the scrolls just out of view Shoryu had no way to tell exactly how much she had left of a particular colour. He'd have to improvise.

* * *

"Why doesn't he just use the Raikyogan?" Mused Kazuya absently.

Reizo looked to his new student and made a noise of recognition as a sign for him to carry on.

"I mean, aren't you from the Zawa clan close-quarters types like we of the Takashi? From what I hear, you specialise in combining precise striking with high speed kenjutsu. Wouldn't the Raikogan help him out here? Ayako's clearly a long range fighter so it would work to his advantage - once he gets in close enough he could have this fight over in a heartbeat."

"You seem well informed." Said Reizo. "You're right, the Raikyogan _would _be useful here; if he actually had it."

"You mean he doesn't?" Kazuya asked, raising his eyebrows in a vague show of surprise.

Reizo shook his head. "Currently there are thirty nine members of the Zawa clan in the Land of Lightning, most of which reside at the Village hidden in the Clouds. Thirty five of them inherited the standard Raikyogan, and three of them were lucky enough to be blessed with the _Daimyo_, or _Lord's _Raikyogan. One of them however, seems to have missed out on the dojutsu completely, and that person is Shoryu Aizawa."

Kazuya huffed a satisfied chuckle at hearing such news. "Figures. Guess he really is just one big joke; he's a failure on all fronts. Honestly Reizo-sensei I have no idea why you thought it'd be a good idea t-"

Before the white haired prodigy could continue further, he suddenly found his legs being forcefully swept away from underneath him as his new sensei tripped him to the ground with ease. He leaned over the boy and held him by the scruff of his violet collar whilst Ayako and Shoryu fought behind them.

"And who do you think you are to judge that?" He warned, with that same threatening tone creeping its way into his voice once more. "You know nothing of Shoryu; of all the pain he's suffered. Despite what everyone seems to think, it's not his fault that he hasn't inherited the Raikyogan. What would you know about being a failure? You were lucky enough to inherit _two _Kekkei Genkai - that's something that I've never even seen before.

Now imagine if you _weren't_ born like that; imagine if you were born into the Takashi clan and never even inherited the Ice Style with no explanation as to why. You'd feel cheated, betrayed and useless – that's what Shoryu has to deal with every day of his life, and it makes it no easier when people like you and the rest of our clan bring him down for it. _That's _why I chose him. A person who can endure that and still aspire to be a ninja, regardless of their talents, is worth training in my eyes. You're a promising student Kazuya, but if you don't learn these things soon enough you won't last long on this team."

Kazuya said nothing for a few moments with the shock of his new teacher actually assaulting him beginning to sink in. He contemplated Reizo's words as it occurred to him that the older and wiser Jonin may have harboured some truth behind his words. ". . . Alright." He finally muttered, making Reizo release his grip and pull the boy to his feet.

"Maybe if you two ever actually become friends you could ask Shoryu what he went through to just become a Genin. After hearing that I doubt you'll still think so lowly of him."

* * *

_Alright, this should work. If I don't get her in this move I'll at least have some clue as to what she's carrying and her pattern of an attack. Here goes!_

Shoryu swerved away from a firecracker stream of red and batted aside the subsequent blue with a quick draw of his shoto. His plan involved expending two of his three shuriken and sacrificing much of his chakra for a plan that might not even work, but it was the only option he saw despite its inefficiency. He spun into a draw of his first windmill shuriken, hurling it on a swerving current before spinning and throwing _another_ along a symmetrical trajectory.

"_Wind Style: Shuriken Sway Jutsu!_"

Expending his chakra to reaffirm his influence over the second bladed cross, Shoryu followed his weapon until it had reached halfway towards its destination before tilting his fingers upwards, sending it spinning straight up into the air along a completely new current. He then ran after the first on a direct path towards the girl and fired four consecutive blasts of the Air Slash Jutsu to follow the shuriken. As he expected, Ayako clapped her hands for a shield of yellow moments before the first shuriken hit its target, cracking the screen and completely shattering it after the following blades of wind finished the job.

Shoryu now dashed at full speed towards her, and with the second shuriken swerving in from behind he knew he had her beat. Those yellow shields only covered the front of her body like one side of a square, so with two attacks coming in from both sides there was no way she could defend herself completely.

Just when Shoryu had pinned her as beaten though, Ayako held out her hands, shaded another surge of colour and clapped them together, revealing a previously hidden ability she wielded. She pivoted on the spot, and in a show of unnatural speed and precision she blasted the shuriken out of the sky with one of the blue spears from her left hand, whilst simultaneously repelling Shoryu back again with a blast of red from her right.

"She can throw different colours from both hands at once?" Reizo muttered in disbelief. "She's even better than I gave her credit for."

With two of his shuriken out of action the boy spun backwards into a medium range to avoid impalement from a following sharpened blue. To the eyes of the girl, his attack had been completely unsuccessful, with him being down to only one shuriken out of three, though what she failed to realise was that Shoryu hadn't completely wasted his move.

In the brief moment that she'd turned to blast his shuriken from the sky, Shoryu had gotten a good look at the scrolls on her back, noticing that the yellow was still thick enough to go the distance and the blue had depleted only slightly. The red however was her most used colour, and subsequently the scroll was scarce, like a dangerously thin tube of toilet paper; she had perhaps ten more of those firework attacks before she ran out.

He darted between streams of oncoming chakra as the girl reinitiated her attack to keep him on the back foot. Sparks of red and shards of blue flew dangerously close by him thanks to his speed decreasing out of fatigue, but he wouldn't give in, not when he almost had her beat. He counted six reds since his last failure of an attack before flaring out the final shuriken and throwing it along a powerful current.

Down on the surface the wind current was weaker, meaning that Shoryu had to put on more spin if he wanted a direct hit from an angle. Without even using his new jutsu he'd set it on a course moving it on a wild curve through the air as he rapidly executed five hand signs to almost completely drain his chakra.

"_Wind Style: Galeforce Jutsu!_"

Without having a senbon jammed into his leg Shoryu was able to execute his most powerful technique with complete control. The miniature hurricane spiralled into existence before him as Shoryu made for his third and final run towards Ayako. She threw reds and blues as usual, though with the presence of a small cyclone whipping up the space before him, the reds were sent off course and the blues caught up in the whirlwind, clattering together before shattering under the strain.

"_Yellow!"_ She cried, just in time to have her newly shaded barrier cracked by Shoryu's incoming shuriken. With his dash now putting him within ten metres he dissipated the Galeforce jutsu and continued solo, hoping to the heavens that his luck held out as he resumed his attack. Luckily, it did.

The next colour that Ayako threw was a blue, followed again by another after his dodge. He knew what this meant – she was completely out of red to make fireworks with, meaning that once he broke through the barrier she had only the blues to repel him – the ones he could dodge with ease. She begun to repair the conjured shield with Shoryu only a few metres away from her, though she had nowhere near enough time to repair it properly before the boy lunged forwards and shattered it with a mighty swing of both blades.

He landed and spun around, gaining full momentum for his final attack as he heard the familiar clap of hands once more. He fought past the instinct to move away, telling himself that it was a deflectable blue and leaning into the rising slash of his main sword. Shoryu brought the blade up with all his might, right on cue to come face to face with what he'd dreaded all along. An open right palm, swimming with shaded red chakra, was pointing straight into his face, and in his desperation to escape the boy spun his entire body backwards.

Ayako stepped forwards and followed the boy to the ground, following his face with her glowing right hand and keeping it inches away from him as she towered over, primed and ready to fire. If he tried to move away he doubted she'd throw the jutsu at such a close range, but fair was fair; she'd submitted him in a skilful manner in a fair fight amongst shinobi, but the only thing that bugged Shoryu was how.

"Winner: Ayako." Announced Reizo.

The crimson light thrust into Shoryu's face was then withdrawn as Ayako brought back her right hand and held her out her left to help him up. He accepted graciously, being heavier than she'd first given him credit for.

"Good match." She said, smiling sweetly.

"Yeah, of course. But how?" He asked. "I was sure you were completely out of. . . Oh."

The realisation hit Shoryu like a Raikyogan punch to the gut after noticing something that should've been plainly obvious from the start. A single patch of her hair from the final inch of her right parting was now a natural blonde rather than the stark red that covered the rest of it. Ayako clapped her hands again to diffuse the chakra, and with a flick of her wrist shaded the now harmless red back into her hair.

"Genius." He said with a laugh. "You purposefully used a tactic that would drain your red scroll first, just to make me think you were all out. If you just use the scrolls to attack then no one ever even suspects that you can take colour from other surfaces."

"Aww, am I that easy to work out?" She said playfully.

"Hey, you won didn't you?"

"Yeah. But I guess I did underestimate you – you almost had me there." Ayako lowered her voice to a whisper for the following sentence. "Between you and me that trick is my only real ace in the hole; I was kinda hoping to save it for the match against Kazuya. Now he knows everything I've got!"

"Well good luck. At any rate, even if he wins you'd be hard-pressed to do any worse than I did. No pressure, all you have to do is move." He joked.

The two laughed and made their way back to the ringside where Reizo was slowly clapping. Kazuya said nothing as usual and only sat in his silent state of meditation upon the grass.

"Great match you two." Reizo observed.

"Reizo sensei, please give me another chance!" Shoryu begged, suddenly shifting into a miserable, pleading state. "I know I lost both my matches, but I swear the nex-"

"Relax Shoryu, it's not about whether you won or lost. You put up an excellent fight and there's still another small mission to go after this one. As far as I'm concerned you've proven yourself worthy of being on this squad even despite losing twice. You learned quickly from your mistakes in the first match against Kazuya and gave Ayako a run for her money in the second. On top of that, out of the three of you, Shoryu you've improved the most since I last saw you."

Shoryu's look of desperate dismay suddenly warped into a pleasant smile. So at least he'd noticed; Shoryu packed far more power than he did a week ago; he carried more shuriken, he'd learned a new jutsu, his chakra control had improved and so too had his strength and speed. At least now he knew that he was in no danger of being sent back to the academy he'd been forced to put up with.

"I'd hate to see what you were like before." Chided Kazuya.

This time Shoryu didn't even reply. Encouragement from Reizo-sensei was all he needed to allow the boy's comments to go right over his head. He sat down in the grass and retrieved the wind flute once more, satisfied that he'd done his part and deserving of a break whilst Ayako and Kazuya fought it out. There was one major problem though: Ayako looked exhausted.

"I'll give you an hour to prepare for the next match." Revealed the Jonin. "Ayako can replenish her chakra and create more scrolls before then. Is that alright Kazuya?"

The boy said nothing, remaining completely focused on his shut-eyed meditation.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Ayako nodded and turned towards the neighbouring woods on the verge of the field. She took only a few steps before she looked back at Shoryu. Despite being exhausted, it was clear to her that Shoryu didn't want to stick around. He still felt embarrassed in front of Reizo, and he and Kazuya hadn't exactly got off to a flying start. She knew that if she left him there he'd be left in an awkward silence until she got back.

"You coming?" She asked.

Shoryu checked over both shoulders before he realised that Ayako was talking to him. He turned to Reizo to ask for permission and was met with a simple nod, allowing him to jump to his feet and catch up to her. He reckoned that the Jonin knew that staying here would do him no favours; his relationship with Kazuya wasn't going to get any better and he'd gotten along well so far with Ayako, so allowing them time to socialise further would increase team morale.

The two entered the darkened forest after the hundred yard trek as Ayako begun to search around for new materials. Shoryu had no idea exactly what she was looking for, but there was hardly much variety to choose from. He knew she absorbed the colours of red, blue and yellow, yet aside from the occasional buttercup there was nothing substantial of any primary colour. The forest was a random collection of trees littered by occasionally thick patches of underbrush. Colours were dark and dim from the lack of light down here in contrast to the vivid colours that hung from her belt - hardly a treasure trove of potential ammo.

"So how do you plan on replenishing those colours with so little in here?" He asked, letting the question out that had been bugging him.

"Huh?" She turned to him. "Oh, I can take it from anything. Watch." Ayako then initiated the same sequence of hand signs he'd seen her perform before, called out the name of the formidable technique and absorbed a small pocket of green from the foliage by Shoryu's feet. The chakra-moulded colour swum and glowed in her palms as Shoryu scratched his head in confusion.

"But how's that gonna help you?" He quizzed, knowing that green wasn't in her arsenal.

Ayako silently answered the boy's question by bringing the opposing fingers of her hands together.

"_Lightweave!_" She called.

For a moment Shoryu thought she was about to clap and ignite the colour for an attack, though instead she let her fingers intertwine as she dug into blob of green before gently prying it apart. Once her hands had separated the cogs in Shoryu's mind slowly fell into place. Holding it with both hands she'd absorbed the green, but after dismantling the colour and taking it apart she now held a blue sphere in one hand and a yellow in the other.

"I get it now." He said smiling. "Green is blue mixed with yellow right? So if you split it up you can get it back to its original colours."

Ayako nodded. "Yeah. But it's much more efficient if you find the colour itself – I could shade red from the brown in these trees and yellow and blue from the grass, but it's much better to find them at their base colours." She spread out both palms to continue the process.

As snaking tracks of light, the two colours trailed in a spiralling twirl out of the girl's hand and into the scrolls that hung from her belt, solidifying into wafer-thin paper that would dissolve upon her usage rather than being drained into black like the patch of grass that stood beneath them. She then shaded the entirety of her hair dye into a large sphere in her hand before replenishing the red scroll.

It was then that Shoryu noticed two things. First of all she'd been hiding a _lot _of red in that hair of hers. The red scroll filled back up to almost half way, meaning that even whilst fighting him she had plenty of reserves. Secondly, she looked almost unrecognisable in her natural blonde. He knew she was the same person of course, yet she somehow seemed more gentle and innocent than before with the lighter hair colour; her expression even seemed to soften in the absence of the flaming red.

"Two questions." He said.

She laughed. "Shoot."

"What's gonna happen to that grass?" He queried, feeling sorry for the inanimate patch of earth that stood beneath him, looking charred thanks to being drained of its colour.

"Don't worry about it." She said. "It's a living organism – it'll automatically replenish its pigment if it wants to absorb the sun. Give it a day or two and it'll be back to normal."

"Ahh." Shoryu nodded his head thoughtfully.

"And the second?"

"Right: Well you know your hair?"

"Yeah. . . I know of it."

"Well could you absorb the yellow out of it even though it's your natural hair colour?"

"Yup." Ayako immediately demonstrated the validity of her claim by shading the entirety of her blonde hair into a ball in her hands, shifting her hair into the darkest black and once again changing her image completely. After a few seconds she transferred the colour back, seeming to hate the darker colour. "If I used my natural hair colour it's like the grass – It'll go back to being blonde after a while. Guess it doubles up as a shield for last reserves huh?"

"That's wicked." He said. Shoryu's mind immediately debated other possibilities - even when she was out of hair dye she could probably get colour from the yellow and blue of her dress too. He knew taking red from her own skin would be a problem though; she'd be draining red blood cells and leaving her body defenceless against minor attacks and even the sun.

Ayako and Shoryu carried on through the woods, with the girl seeming to know where exactly to go to find colour. Sensitive ears followed the trickling of a small stream nearby, though before they reached it Ayako stopped upon stumbling across a collection of oversized leaves the length of Shoryu's forearm. At a first glance they were regular green – the kind Ayako said was inefficient, however upon closer inspection he noticed that the undersides were in fact red, with a wide enough surface area across the bush big enough to completely restore Ayako's scroll of red.

The two continued towards the small pond to allow the girl to shade blue for those deceptively sharp javelins and yellow from the petals of neighbouring daffodils, replenishing the shield she'd used. Shoryu simply sat atop a simple rock and absently experimented with different melodies on his flute while she gathered materials.

"So, any tips on beating Kazuya?" She asked, finalising her scrolls and mounting a rock opposite him.

"You saw the match didn't you? The guy's a machine." Shoryu explained as he shook his head in defeat. "Judging from his arsenal I'd say he favours close range or medium - that double bladed sword looks handy for close combat. On top of that, I'm guessing he sticks to his ninjutsu for a medium range like I do - the Ice style, the only problem is we haven't actually _seen _those jutsu yet so I don't really know what to anticipate."

Ayako nodded thoughtfully as Shoryu continued.

"I originally thought of trying to lure him into the forest and strike him from his blindside. The guy's honourable right? He won't attack from behind so I thought I'd use it to my advantage; I figured that if I could get away from him the cards would be in my favour since I wouldn't have to worry about him doing the same thing to me."

"Yeah, that could work!" Ayako cried.

The girl's heart sank as Shoryu shook his head. "If you leave him by himself he'll no doubt he'll use that Kekkei Genkai. If he manages all those weird hand signs then it's game over, so you have to interrupt that dojutsu the moment he starts it. Of course if you did that from hiding you'd just give away your position and you'd be back to square one."

"Damn it! You're right." She admitted, realising the boy's dilemma.

"Your safest best is probably to keep your distance like you did with me, but if he ever gets off that dojutsu you have to throw up those shields fast. I originally presumed it was some kind of reflex enhancing jutsu that he used, but from its name and Reizo's description it looks like he doesn't increase his speed at all, rather he slows everything down aside from himself."

"What's the difference?" Asked Ayako. "I mean whichever way you look at it, he's still moving at speeds we can't follow."

"It's all about the control: jutsu that increase a user's speed take years to master because the user's body has to become accustomed to travelling at great speeds. But since he slows the time around him, his body clock wouldn't change, and to him, he'd just be moving regularly."

"Hmm, good point."

Ayako finalised her arsenal by adding another wave of red through her hair, though this time she layered the inside with an opposing tone of blue to give herself a more varied supply of ammunition. With the girl completely restocked on primary colours for the shading jutsu, the two headed off back through the forest.

As he followed behind her the boy passed the patch of grass that Ayako had drained not fifteen minutes ago, and true to her word, closer inspection showed that green was definitely beginning to restore at the tips of the blades. He looked at the girl for a moment; for all her confidence Shoryu could've sworn she seemed nervous at the very idea of facing the boy with the two Kekkei Genkai.

"I'm sure you'll beat him– he just got lucky against me is all!" Shoryu joked. "I mean, you got _thirteen _in the exam; that's pretty impressive stuff, especially when you compare it to my score."

"But what's up with your score anyway?" Ayako asked. "Are you seriously telling me that you got a six? That's complete bull! You went toe to toe with me for the whole fight and I only won through deception – if that score is accurate then you've either _doubled _your strength in the last week or I've _really_ let myself go."

Shoryu laughed at her comment. He contemplated telling her the whole truth, though having only known her for a single day his privacy got the better of him, and so he had to settle for only a half-truth. "Let's just say I was suffering from an injury at the time."

"An injury? What do you mean?"

Shoryu pulled up the fabric of his loose fitted, three-quarter length pants to reveal a triad of ugly scars crossing one another in a random array over his left quadriceps. Judging from the redness and still-visible stitching Ayako could tell right away that these scars were still quite new; in fact she was amazed he could still walk straight after such an injury. Their shape indicated some kind of blade far broader than a regular projectile – perhaps a sword or one of his windmill shuriken.

"How the hell did you manage that?" She asked.

Shoryu sighed and pulled the leg of his pants back down past his knees. "It's kind of a long story. Ask me some other time, okay?"

Ayako hesitated for a moment. She wanted to push him further and get the full details on what had clearly been a traumatic experience. At the same time however, she knew that his wounds were none of her business, and if their friendship developed she'd no doubt hear in due time anyway. She smiled once again. "Sure thing."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hey guys! I'm back! This is really late I know, but there's a good reason for that - the same reason that I'm forced to go on a small hiatus: My laptop has died after only 2 years of functioning, and I have no real way to afford a new one. I'm doing everything I can to save up for one: I'm walking everywhere rather than getting the bus, I'm working more, I'm going out less and I even cut down on smoking, but it might be a couple of months before I can afford a new one even with all that. If it gets past those couple of months I'll just have to take it out of my student loan, though I'd like to avoid that if possible. Thanks in advance for understanding - I'll try where I can to post a new chapter here and there and I'll carry on drawing of course, since I still need to draw Kazuya, Ayako and Reizo, but please try and understand my situation - I am literally sat alone in the corner of the UCLan library posting this chapter from a laptop I rented, and I had to walk for an hour just to get here :(

As promised the **picture of Shoryu** is up that you can see from a link on my profile,** along with chapter 6,** so go read the next one after you hear me rant for a while :)

Sooo, about Ayako's power - I didn't wanna make it a Kekkei Genkai since it just doesn't seem the right type of jutsu for it and Kazuya's already got two. The Shading Jutsu is something I made up myself, but I'd be lying if I said there wasn't some clear influence. The first is obvious to Fullmetal Alchemist fans - the way she claps her hands before an attack is something I stole from Edward Elric. The whole idea of using colours though comes from a book called the Black Prism - the first in Brent Weeks's 'Lightbringer' trilogy. In this book characters use a type of magic called 'Drafting', but I didn't steal it at all, there's countless differences. In both, the colours each have different properties and can be used by someone who knows the technique, but the similarities end there. I'm using just primary colours for now (I'll definitely expand later), whereas the Black Prism uses a spectrum idea - it goes from superviolet, blue, green, yellow, orange, red, and then finally sub-red.

In the Black Prism, most drafters can only use one of these colours, someone who can use two is called a Bichrome, and a person with three is a Polychrome. With the Shading Jutsu there's no restriction really. Also, drafters in the Lightbringer series only have to see their colour to bring out their magic - they don't drain the colour or convert it, they just look at one of the spectrum colours and their power activates by taking the light rays in through the eyes (they often see through coloured lenses to absorb more) Furthermore they can't displace colour onto a different surface.

Anyway I went on about that for too long - it's a decent book that I'm shamelessly advertising here :D (Actually whilst we're on that topic, Foo Fighters' 'Wasting Light' was vital to drawing Shoryu - listen to it!)

Oh and I made a Scott Pilgrim reference! Yay for me!

Alright I'm done now, go read about Ayako and Kazuya fighting it out :)


	6. Chapter 6 The Subzero Kekkei Genkai

Chapter 6: Ice Style! The Subzero Kekkei Genkai

The moment Ayako returned, Reizo led the two once again into the centre of the field and squared them off at forty yards away after strengthening the blocking seal on Kazuya's bladed weapon. Despite knowing he shouldn't take sides, Shoryu silently hoped for the girl's success, praying that she'd at least land a few blows before he took her down. The creeping suspicion that he'd experienced before took a hold of his mind as Reizo savoured the prolonged silence. Shoryu deduced that there was far more to Kazuya that met the eye; he was on a whole new level to either Shoryu or Ayako; the time slowing dojutsu was a far cry from the full extent of his powers.

"When you're ready. . ." Reizo began, noticing that already Ayako's hands were preparing to snap into the first hand sign. "Begin!"

Ayako quickly strung together the same sequence of hand signs Shoryu had seen her perform twice now, though in her nervous state she extended her ring finger for the tiger seal rather than laying it flat. She cursed under her breath and prepared to start again, but after sparing a glance to Kazuya she saw that he appeared uninterested as ever.

Faster than before, Ayako broke out the five basic hand signs and brought the jutsu to fruition with the final unorthodox hand sign.

"_Ninja Art: Shading Jutsu!_" She cried. The girl suddenly shaded blue into the palms of her hands and clapped to spark up the colour in her left. Still Kazuya never made a move; he stood off guard and aloof, as if he didn't care that a powerful ninja stood opposing him with a fistful of jagged blue.

Annoyed by his lack of focus, Ayako launched the colour with all her might, only to find that like Shoryu, Kazuya opted to drawing his weapon and batting the solid chakra away with a spinning flourish, albeit with far more flair than his predecessor. The weapon was characterised by a foot long handle in the centre sprouting an almost thirty inch blade from each side, both etched with mirroring characters carved upon the tempered steel as a symbol of his clan. He held the sword up vertically, showing that it came just past his chin when its first blade touched the ground.

"I'll tell you what." He said, finally speaking after being silent for so long. "I'll fight you without slowing time – that way it'll be a little more of a challenge."

Ayako curled her lip into a snarl; a display of anger Shoryu thought her incapable of. "Save it! Use it all you want! I don't need you taking pity on me!"

"I'm doing this for myself – it should make the match last a little longer." Kazuya said with a smirk.

"It's a bad idea to underestimate a shinobi you know!" Warned Ayako.

"It's quite the contrary actually; my clan's techniques are not to be taken lightly. You should consider yourself lucky you get to see them firsthand."

"I'm_ honoured!_" Ayako cried, and with that she hurled another solid blue javelin straight across the gap towards him.

"_Ice Style: Cryo Blast Jutsu!"_

With a swift triad of hand signs Kazuya thrust forward his left hand, and from it fired a crushing beam of ice that engulfed the small blue spear, freezing it solid. The boy then closed his fist and shattered it into a vibrant display of scattering shards. It was a technique unlike anything Shoryu or Ayako had ever seen before; the boy had executed a powerful jutsu with properties not of the five basic elements.

* * *

"Sensei, what the hell was that?" Quizzed Shoryu, stricken in awe by the technique.

"That, Shoryu, is the Kekkei Genkai of the Takashi clan – the Ice style brand of jutsu. Their members can merge both the wind style and the water style to create a whole new jutsu. They use a cold chill from the wind to freeze the water they conjure up, and so with the right chakra control they have blasts of ice on command."

"Wind style? So he can use the same techniques I can?" Shoryu asked.

Reizo laughed and shook his head. "I doubt it – you're on a higher level in terms of wind style techniques. Kazuya can only perform the most basic jutsu, and he's got a water affinity anyway. But thanks having those two types of jutsu at his disposal he doesn't have to be a real adept; he only needs to master the fundamentals so that he can put them together and bring out the Ice style."

Shoryu couldn't help but smile upon learning that he was far more advanced with the wind style than Kazuya was, but the mere fact that he could actually combine two different elements on top of his superior physical strength put Kazuya on a whole new level above him. With every fact that was revealed about the boy, Shoryu understood more and more why Reizo had picked him for the team. Part of it was the irony of having one member with a denied Kekkei Genkai and one with a _pair _of them, though it became increasingly apparent to the boy that Reizo simply wanted to give Shoryu an obstacle; an unfairly powerful adversary that he'd strive to surpass despite it being almost impossible for him to do so. On top of that, he suspected he was Reizo's little experiment – a way for him to show the clan the error of their ways.

Reizo knew that Shoryu would probably never even come close to beating Kazuya, yet the knowledge of this only made Shoryu even _more _determined to put the boy in his place. That snobbish and superior attitude gave Shoryu an almost automatic hatred of him on a level topped only by his old sensei Zakari.

Kazuya rushed forwards, and after ducking under three of the consecutive blue spears he repeated the same blast of ice five times over, making sure that this time Ayako was immediately put on the rails rather than him risking the battle like Shoryu had. After her shield had shattered with the third frozen beam the girl turned and dived away from the following shot before only barely rolling away from the last one. By then the swift padding of Kazuya's feet across the grass told her that he was coming, so she rolled back onto her front and blasted another pair of red bolts to keep him at a distance.

Kazuya stopped with that smug expression once again as he allowed the girl to get back to her feet. She'd warned him once about underestimating or going easy on her, and now that he'd annoyed her a second time she felt an even greater resentment. With the honourable warrior waiting for her move, Ayako took the opportunity to briefly scan the battleground.

Whilst she'd repelled him for the time being, Kazuya was considerably closer than he was on the first move. Like Shoryu had predicted, he'd used his ninjutsu, the Ice style, for middle range combat. With the first move, where their attacks had collided, the two had been stood over forty yards apart, a width that just about qualifies as long range. However, the pillar of ice had only engulfed Ayako's technique at the point of impact; the field's centre. Unlike the chakra that Ayako wielded, the girl doubted that Kazuya's ice would even extend across forty yards - he'd used it as a shield and an opportunity to show off his power.

Now that Kazuya had moved forwards fifteen paces though, her luck was out. He was in perfect range to actually hit her as evidenced by her shield giving out, and any closer would result in his use of that deadly sword he carried. Ayako's gut told her that Kazuya was also far more deadly holding a blade than Shoryu was.

_I have to beat him before he gets too close!_ She told herself, though all strategy was replaced by frantic anxiety when faced with an opponent so overwhelmingly powerful. His stance; his gaze; his every movement seemed to convey that he was better than her in every way, and everything she'd seen so far made sure that the idea was backed up tenfold.

Hesitantly the girl clapped off a blue that was casually sidestepped by the boy, serving as his cue to advance further after dodging. In her panic Ayako fired a stream of reds his way. She kept him at bay successfully as the downside to her overuse became clear: so many at once took a toll on her chakra. Despite the hour Ayako still hadn't fully recovered from the fight with Shoryu, being completely drained even upon her victory. After ten successive streams of crimson firecrackers bombarding Kazuya and forcing his agile retreat, the girl's supplies ran low, and his smug grin told her that he'd make another attack any minute now.

She checked her replenished supplies of colour when an idea came into her head. It wasn't much; it was barely a cheap trick by the standards of ninja. But Kazuya _wasn't_ a ninja, and Ayako's skills with shading coupled with the boy's lack of knowledge could turn a simple decoy into a decisive attack.

Once her gaze was back on the battlefield again Kazuya set off again, sprinting with an incredible speed even without the use of his time slowing technique. From a small pouch by her leg Ayako retrieved six kunai; they were weapons Shoryu hadn't noticed previously and they puzzled him for a moment: Why would Ayako, a fighter who could conjure up long range projectiles with only the colours red and blue at her disposal, use conventional ninja tools like kunai?

She grabbed the handles of all six in one hand, and with the other she shaded a painted smear of red from the scroll to wash the knives into dripping blades of paint before steadying her aim with them.

"Clever." Reizo muttered. "Very clever."

"Reizo-sensei, you didn't cover those weapons with your jutsu, if she hits him then-"

"Just watch and learn Shoryu; I don't think she means to actually hit him with them."

Just as she'd suspected, Kazuya took no notice of the fact that she carried kunai, the fact that she'd coloured the blades in red, or even the fact that she never clapped her hands to ignite the colour before throwing the knives in his direction. Deception wasn't a part of bushido and never came into play during sparring at his village, so Kazuya suspected nothing as he nimbly darted away from the hastily thrown ninja tools. After all they were far easier to dodge than the girl's coloured chakra blasts thanks to their smaller size and her lack of physical strength behind her throw.

Eventually he came within twenty paces; the perfect distance for his ice style jutsu. However the girl was also proficient at this range as he'd seen before, and so Kazuya pushed on, drawing the double bladed sword and twirling past the final projectile. It was only as he realised the smile form upon Ayako's lips that he noticed something was amiss.

"S_hading Jutsu!_" She cried, clapping her hands and throwing them out in front of her, despite not wielding any colour. "_Red Snare!_"

Kazuya thought nothing of it and carried on running, though the following hiss and dramatic cackle of one of Ayako's red fireworks behind him sparked his attention as the boy instinctively turned his head. He panicked upon hearing the familiar sound of the burning attack behind him, and in the brief moment that he turned towards the sound of only half a dozen kunai sizzling as harmless roman candles, the boy's guard dropped.

"_Blue!_"

"What?"

Ayako's determined cry of her attack made Kazuya jerk back his head with barely enough time remaining to move out of the javelin's flight path. He veered his body to the side, ensuring that the spear missed his gut, though instead it surged past his leg with a light shower of blood. Reizo shot the boy a look of worry and a shaking head in reply told him that the fight would continue.

_Damn it! _The girl cursed to herself. _He's just too fast, and there's no way he'd fall for that again! I really don't have much left._

"Not bad, not bad." Said Kazuya plainly, mocking her whether he intended to or not. "I never factored your cheap ninja tricks into my attack."

"Yeah well it's those same 'cheap tricks' that keep your village defended by Cloud ninja every day of the week." Ayako spat.

"My clan handles and protects itself just fine on its own. We don't receive or ask for aid from the Cloud ninja."

"Oh yeah? And who do you think protects the borders of the Land of Lightning you _idiot_? The capital does - the Village Hidden in the Clouds ."

Shoryu couldn't help but stifle a laugh as Ayako's valid and clearly well informed point silenced the young man, making his smug grin warp into a serious scowl. Where she couldn't defeat him in combat she defeated him in words.

Once the girl fell back into stance Kazuya rushed towards her again, this time determined to beat her quickly after she'd openly humiliated him. Ayako knew all too well that if he got into close quarters with her it'd be game over; with the way he brandished that strange weapon it was apparent that he knew how to use it at a high level, and since her speciality lay within range her defeat would be inevitable.

She cast a relentless stream of blues and reds in his direction to keep the boy at bay, though he closed in faster than ever, using moves beyond Shoryu's wildest dreams to slip between the projectiles and work his way forwards. She panicked in realising that despite shading as fast as she could, Kazuya still advanced.

_If I don't do something quick I'm finished_. She noted, seeing that the blue and red scrolls were quickly diminishing.

But Ayako still had a few tricks left up her sleeve; the dye in her hair was still intact, and thanks to Kazuya's nature as an honourable samurai there were moves that she could now initiate; moves that she knew most shinobi would never fall for. In a real ninja battle they'd be as practical as ever, but she was still a novice with these techniques, meaning that if she'd tried to execute them against Shoryu he'd see right through them in a heartbeat.

Ayako shaded a whole mass of blue, and without clapping her hands to spark up the colour's properties she quickly spun around, trailing her hand around the floor so that she drew a surrounding circle of blue in the grass. Once again Kazuya failed to notice her strategy as she proceeded to once again fire off a storm of red to keep him at bay.

Ayako's fingers worked like the intricate hands of a spinner as she weaved colours together faster than any hand sign to quickly form a blending mass in front of her. Kazuya saw the opportunity; she had stopped casting off those attacks and now drafted all three colours for some kind of technique, meaning that he could approach once again at full speed. Even within reaching five paces she made no move to attack and simply carried on shading colours, meaning that when Kazuya brought down the double ended sword for a powerful slash he made direct contact with a critical blow that should've ended the match.

Or so he thought.

To the samurai's horror he found that his supposedly 'protected' blade slashed right through the girl's body, and for one agonising second the look on his face told the others that he thought Reizo's jutsu had worn off and that he'd actually killed the girl. His expression turned to one of dismay as the girl's body twisted and convulsed into a washed together combination of colours that leaked into primary coloured dyes on the floor below him.

"A colour clone." Mused Reizo. "Very nice – I hear they're tricky. Not only did she pull it off in time, but she also mixed it with a substitution jutsu."

Shoryu blinked twice before suddenly noticing that behind the leaking dummy of colour, the real Ayako stood just a few yards away, preparing to clap her hands once more after entrapping Kazuya in her circle of blue.

"S_hading Jutsu! Blue Execution!_"

"_Ice Style! Substitution!_"

Once Ayako clapped her hands the tight perimeter of blue sprung to life, rising up from the ground as a surrounding circle of shard-like spikes in an attempt to contain the young samurai. For all her efforts though, Kazuya's intercepting chant struck her with panic, and her suspicions were confirmed as the azure daggers hit nothing but a block of exploding ice as Kazuya flipped out of the trap and back into safety, having swapped out his body with a substitution using the Ice Style Kekkei Genkai of his clan.

This time he didn't wait. Kazuya blasted the girl in the heat of battle, giving her barely enough time to throw up a glasslike shield that shattered along with the Cryo Blast jutsu he'd hurled her way. Ayako cursed at her failed plan and instantly went back on the offence, realising painfully that her red scroll was completely depleted. She shaded blue after blue to cast in his direction, but without the presence of the red to catch him off guard he reached her in only a few moves.

"_Yellow!"_

Thanks to her chakra running low, Ayako's shield shattered the instant Kazuya's weapon clashed against it. He darted past her defence and made for the killing blow yet again, though out of sheer impulse the girl quickly shaded one of the blue spears into her hand to block the attack. It cracked down the centre immediately and she flipped backwards to re-establish a range despite knowing the boy was hot on her tail.

"You can't fool me." He called after her. "That thing's not a sword."

_He's right_. Noted Ayako. Yellow was a more effective shield, but she could shade blue far faster, and with the boy's incredible speed it was the best she could do given the circumstances. Only one technique remained to keep her safe, but even then it would only prolong the battle rather than giving her a solid chance. It wasn't much, but at least it'd keep her safe for the time being. She acted quickly as the samurai closed in, shading a colossal amount of yellow into her hands mixed in with the entirety of red from her hair.

"S_hading Jutsu! Eternal Dome!_"

Ayako clapped her hands, and in the blink of an eye Kazuya's approaching attack was blocked by a solid, reinforced wall of the same yellow shield she always used; however this time it was different. Using up most of her scroll she'd encased herself in a solid half-sphere of the translucent yellow shield, rendering herself completely impervious to any attack as long as her chakra could hold up the dome. With the strain clearly showing on her face, Ayako clapped her hands again to release an explosive pulse of the red from her hair, emitting from the dome's edges and forcing Kazuya to back off another ten yards to completely avoid it.

The girl staggered to one knee and breathed through laborious pants as she peered with hazy eyes past the transparent shield. Kazuya was smiling as usual. With her hair now being exclusively blue he knew she'd used up the entirety of her red attacks, and both her blue and yellow scrolls were all but gone as well.

"I must say, I admire you getting this far. You've got some impressive moves – better than _that_ weakling to say the least." Said Kazuya

Shoryu growled under his breath at hearing his name slandered.

"But this is as far as you go." Added the boy. "In return for a good fight however, I guess it wouldn't hurt to show you my dojutsu once more."

Ayako suddenly found her heart in her throat at the very mention of that terrifying Kekkei Genkai the boy possessed, and her fear rose even higher with every one of those obscure hand signs he proceeded to execute. All the while Kazuya kept his gaze fixed on the half-sphere encasing Ayako as he took his time to position the awkward signs. His eyes gleamed as for just a single moment he saw the wall flicker in her lack of chakra, using that as his cue to finish at fifteen signs with the final and most peculiar gesture of them all.

"_Vortex Shift: Time Slow Jutsu!_"

Kazuya's eyes blinked to reveal that haunting gaze she'd seen before of a typhoon-like pattern manifesting within and peering directly into her mind. Without a moment's notice he took off, and in less than a second he smashed straight through the Eternal Dome at inhuman speeds. She saw an opening and instinctively shaded the last of her blue into a spear, though by the time she took aim Ayako ended up using it once again as a shield with Kazuya attacking her again in a frighteningly fast twirl of his sword. He broke the coloured chakra with a single swipe, and before she could move to shade another he'd wheeled the sword over his wrist, so that its opposite edge was placed directly at her throat, pinning her for the win.

"Winner: Kazuya."

"_Damn it!_" Cursed Ayako out loud. She clapped her hands once more to diffuse the coloured chakra before sinking to one knee in exhaustion. Her eyes blurred in and out of clarity and her hands felt scorched from shading so many colours, but she pushed the pain aside and replaced it with frustration at her own incompetence.

"Not bad." Said Kazuya, immensely satisfied now that he'd defeated her. "But if you ever want to beat me. . . You'll have to do a lot better than that."

"That's enough!" Shoryu's voice interrupted his new rival's belittling as he approached the two and helped Ayako back to her feet. "You won alright? There's no need to rub it in her face. You know, you should show more respect to the ninja who's gonna be the eleventh Raikage."

"Uhh, can we call it twelfth? I want my shot at being Raikage too you know." Reizo joked, attempting to alleviate the growing tension between the three. Shoryu's aggressive scowl turned blank as the group went silent. Neither of the three said a word – Shoryu wanted the self-righteous son of a bitch to acknowledge his error, but in the end Kazuya only huffed and turned away.

"Whatever." He muttered. "Do we get another break?"

Reizo sighed in seeing that he wouldn't have to stop another fight. Ayako had exhausted herself again anyway, and another small exercise remained for them to overcome. If they were smart however, Reizo said they'd be able to completely see through the final session and complete it using next to no energy.

"Sure, take another hour." Said Reizo. "Meet back here at two thirty."

"Right." With that single word being his only farewell Kazuya suddenly turned and headed off for a walk all by himself, leaving Shoryu with nothing else to do except glare at the back of his head. He continued to do so until Ayako finally broke the silence.

"Umm, thanks." She said awkwardly.

"For what?" Quizzed Shoryu.

"Well you know, for sticking up for me – that guy's a jerk."

"He'll come around eventually." Reizo assured. "He's an odd case, but I'm sure he's got his reasons for being the way he is. It's not always easy being the best you know; his clan must put a _lot _of pressure on him."

Shoryu scoffed. "Oh yeah, _poor _Kazuya – yeah it must really _suck_ to have two Kekkei Genkai and the respect of everyone around you. Man I feel _so_ sorry for that guy."

"He might not have endured what you did Shoryu, but everyone suffers in their own way at one point or another, it's all relative."

Ayako cocked an eyebrow in suspicion; she had no idea about Shoryu's own clan shunning him, but the more she thought about it the more it fell into place. It was only then that she realised that despite being a part of the Zawa family tree like Reizo, Shoryu _hadn't _utilised the Raikyogan at all during their fight. Even when he approached her in close quarters his eyes had never changed, and with gloves covering his hands it was made impossible to see whether or not he possessed the faint markings that glowed upon its usage.

"Yeah I know. . ." Shoryu breathed reluctantly. "I'm sorry."

From the look on Ayako's face, Reizo sensed that she was about to ask a personal question about the boy's youth, and so he cut her off as quick as he could. "Ayako, don't you have to replenish your scrolls?"

Ayako nodded, and in remembering her lack of ammunition she got to her feet. Shoryu contemplated asking whether or not she wanted his company again, though something about her told him that she needed space to herself to reflect on her loss. He hoped Kazuya's words hadn't cut too deep.

As Ayako disappeared into the forest once again Shoryu was left sitting with the young sensei, who quickly got to his feet and stretched out to make himself more limber. Training Team Thirteen had interrupted his own usual schedule and gotten in the way of his routine exercises, so a little training for this hour's break would suffice. He directed chakra to his eyes, preparing to unleash his precious dojutsu until he stopped abruptly. It occurred to him that training himself now in front of Shoryu might be a little insensitive – he worried about whether it would come across as him showing off and taunting Shoryu with what he'd missed out on with the Raikyogan.

He took another look at Shoryu and weighed up the risk. Despite having more powerful ninja, of all the members of Team Thirteen Reizo honestly pitted Shoryu as the most mature. Ayako still lacked complete self-confidence and Kazuya was still passive-aggressively blocking people out all the time. Despite being occasionally impulsive, Shoryu was still probably the most logical thinker of the group and could be trusted to act responsibly and rationalise his every move. Someone like that surely wouldn't misinterpret his training as showing off, and he was still at an age of inexperience where new things were often fascinating.

"Wanna see something cool?" Asked Reizo at last.

Shoryu looked up. "Sure."

Reizo rolled up the forearm sleeves of his undershirt to reveal that the faint mark of the Raikyogan etched upon the back of his hand extended all the way up his forearm in a tribal-like pattern that ended at his elbows.

"What the-"

"_Daimyo Raikyogan!_" Along with the markings on his hands and arms, Reizo's eyes lit up light tiny, electric blue bulbs that surged with thunderous chaos far more volatile than the regular Raikyogan dojutsu.

"Whoa! What's that? I've never even _heard _of that before!" Exclaimed the amazed teen

"No, I don't suppose you would have. This is the 'Daimyo', or the 'Lord's' Raikyogan." Reizo explained. "It manifests by sheer chance in only one in fifteen members of the Zawa bloodline. It's a far more powerful variant, allowing the user to manipulate external bioelectric fields as well as the standard internal ones. The user's speed is also increased thanks to the rapidly vibrating cells within their body."

"Sweet! I didn't even know there were different forms of the Raikyogan. Are there any more?"

Reizo laughed to himself as he felt a difficult discussion incoming. "Technically there _is_ a third."

Shoryu raised an eyebrow. "Technically? What do you mean by that?"

Reizo drew the spiked baton he constantly carried and Shoryu watched in amazement as it extended into a spear of a similar length to Kazuya's double bladed sword. He swung the pole three times at enemies he'd conjured up with his mind before using the power of his advanced dojutsu to blast a concentrated bolt of lightning from his left hand.

"There's a third level called the 'Kanzen', or the 'Perfect' Raikyogan." He then said. "It was wielded by the very first member and founder of our clan just after the fall of the fifth Raikage. His children inherited it, and the power lasted the reign of the sixth before disappearing completely – the bloodline became too diluted. It hasn't been seen in over a hundred years, and probably never will again."

"Awesome! They must've been really powerful!"

"Indeed they were, or so they say. There's no one in the world alive today who actually remembers it, we only have records of its existence. Some even claim it never actually existed at all, but most members of the clan would like to think otherwise, myself included."

"So right now you possess the most powerful form of the Raikyogan! You could easily become the Raikage!"

"Provided the tenth steps down and appoints a successor that is. He's been in power for almost fifty years now, I don't wanna be an old man by the time I become Raikage!" Reizo joked. "But with the Daimyo Raikyogan and all my experience I think I'm safely on the list of candidates."

"I'll bet – that thing is incredible!"

"Hey you never know, maybe you'll inherit it one of these days." Said Reizo.

Shoryu's face suddenly dropped into a glum, sombre expression, and Reizo cringed in realising that he'd hit a nerve.

"Don't be cruel sensei; you and I both know that I've been completely skipped for the Raikyogan. I'm three years too old for it to manifest now."

"Hey you never know, you might just be a late bloomer. Wouldn't that be something?" Reizo mused.

"Do you actually believe that sensei or are you just messing with me?" Shoryu asked.

Reizo let out a loud laugh and even disengaged the Daimyo Raikyogan at Shoryu's sudden bluntness. It was a touchy subject as expected, and as the electric blue glow faded from his eyes the Jonin formulated his answer, shrugging as he did so. "I honestly don't know Shoryu." He added. "It's possible. At the very least, the fact that you don't have the Raikyogan tells me that your father must've been one incredibly powerful ninja."

Shoryu blinked twice as he considered the implications. What did him not having the Raikyogan have to do with the strength of his father? He scratched his head and narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, prompting Reizo to explain.

"The Raikyogan has manifested in every child of the Zawa bloodline for over a century except you. To me that means that your father's genes must've been so strong that they made a complete override on your mother's Zawa genes and either nullified or suppressed the Raikyogan."

"Huh. . ." Shoryu put his hand to his chin. It made sense in its own little way, but regardless, it was something he'd never even considered before. "I never thought of it like that."

For the next forty minutes Shoryu simply watched Reizo conduct his regular training exercises, using the Daimyo Raikyogan to blast bolts of electricity and quickly zip around, showcasing at least two different kinds of elemental jutsu and displaying a complete mastery of the fundamentals of the shinobi way. With his exhaustion in the aftermath Shoryu calculated that the Daimyo Raikyogan used up far more chakra than the regular one that his mother and most other members of the clan possessed, yet the expenditure was more than worth it with the power Reizo commanded at his fingertips – he could end battles far quicker than normal and with the right control of electricity could keep his opponents alive for interrogation if need be.

Eventually Ayako returned two minutes after Reizo had sat back down in fatigue, followed soon after by Kazuya who looked as sour as ever. Wearily the sensei got to his feet and led the group off for their final challenge. He led them into the dense forest bordering the grassy plane, to an area Ayako and Shoryu had neglected to explore in their previous search for colour. Fifteen minutes through the forest led them to a strange opening, left dark and aged by the density of the woods and passage of time.

White markings on the ground outlined three squares, each side by side to one another. Each was around twenty metres wide and forty long, serving as small arenas where the group would no doubt have to fight once again, though this time they wouldn't be facing each other. Reizo led the three right up to them, careful not to cross the white lines as he turned back to them.

"Alright. Shoryu, you take the one on the left. Ayako take the middle, and Kazuya you get the one on the right. There's a jutsu set to activate the moment you step inside those squares, but before you go let me first give you one piece of advice. You'll need it to succeed in this mission."

Shoryu and Ayako leaned forwards in anticipation, making them equally disappointed when the only advice Reizo offered them was a generic saying they'd all heard before:

"The whole is greater than the sum of its parts."

The three exchanged confused looks; even Kazuya looked troubled by the cryptic message Reizo had left them with, but before they could probe any further the sensei cut them off.

"Alright, go to your squares. You can begin whenever you're ready."

To the eager young teenagers, 'whenever' meant immediately; and so curiously they took their places and tentatively stepped over the bleached white borders into their own small arenas. Shoryu and Ayako exchanged nervous glances from afar as three sets of hissing noises could be heard the moment their feet touched the ground. Smoke billowed from behind a nearby tree, giving Shoryu his cue to peer around and see exactly what had formed there.

To his utmost confusion a shadowy figure stepped out from behind the oak, though it wasn't a new face or an enemy ninja that approached him as a challenger. Instead Shoryu could only react with a queer puzzlement as a sneering, evil silhouette of a familiar face drew weapons as a challenger.

It was himself.

A menacing, evil-looking version of Shoryu Aizawa stood before him, reaching for the windmill shuriken to initiate his first attack.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Me again. Long time no see, like 20 minutes probably? Anyone notice that Shoryu seemed to be taking a swing at Sasuke with his little sarcastic speech? Honestly I didn't mean for it to come out like that, but seriously! Why doesn't the guy cheer up? He's the most powerful ninja his age and every girl fancies him - if I was in his position I'd be fucking bathing in my own awesomeness from the get-go.

Anyway for those that don't know, the Ice Style has been used twice in different versions in Naruto. The first is the one used by Haku and her-I MEAN HIS- clan - the one with the ice mirrors and the different forms of illusion. The second is the one you see in the first Naruto movie that involves freezing - this was before the elemental classifications were outlined in Shippuden, and as such the writers mistakenly figured that Ice was one of the five main elements, not taking into account the fact that it was a Kekkei Genkai (since Kakashi could copy it using the Sharingan). So in light of that I just decided to make my own, which could be easily explained as just being a different strain of the Ice Style, remember this is like 200 years after the events of Naruto.

So yeah, Ayako lost, Kazuya's a dick and Shoryu's annoyed - stay tuned for next time! . . . Whenever I can post it!


	7. Chapter 7 Mirror Opponent!

Chapter 7: Mirror Opponent!

"Well I guess I'll leave you guys to it, bye now!"

Shoryu turned with a look of panic to see his idol sensei bounce away in a flash before the bladed edge of one of his own shuriken caught his attention. He swerved and managed barely to avoid the attack as his twisted clone advanced. The pair engaged in a trade of blows, each drawing both swords and matching one another with three consecutive attacks.

A brief glance to his right showed the boy that Ayako and Kazuya were busy fighting their own clones, but a glance was all he was permitted as the malevolent Shoryu leapt into a spinning strike of both weapons. The boy rolled away just in time to avoid a skewering and strung together a sequence of hand signs, noticing that the clone mirrored him a second later.

"_Wind Style! Galeforce Jutsu!_"

The twin's voice echoed against his own; and before the boy could re-establish control of his miniature tornado the two combined into an even larger one, sweeping up the successive shuriken they simultaneously threw in its vortex.

"_Wind Style! Shuriken Sway Jutsu!_"

_Huh?_ Shoryu heard his own voice cry out as his clone employed a tactic he hadn't yet thought of. From out of the raging cyclone a windmill shuriken veered away and curved on a wide trajectory towards him.

Shoryu readied both blades and swung with all his might in an attempt to deflect the shuriken, though with its weight and rapidly spinning edges he only barely succeeded, finishing his block with a trio of cuts running across his face, arm and leg, splashing fresh to stain his sky blue outfit. Before he had time to check the damage though, the psychotic version of his own being came running through the already dimming Galeforce jutsu and launched himself towards the boy.

It was only then that Shoryu realised that his clone didn't just have the same moves; he employed the exact same style and moves he did, moving and acting just like the boy himself did in combat, meaning that as he approached, Shoryu noticed his right shoulder drop, leaving him wide open for an attack. It was a quirk he'd noticed before in his own style and had tried to fix in vain, but nevertheless it was something he could exploit from the situation.

He swerved to the side and aimed his leading blade towards the clone's right arm, breathing heavily as he prepared to tempt superstition by smashing a mirror. It was only in the last second however that he noticed something else: the clone was making for his own right arm.

_Damn it__! _He cursed, realising the opening too late to correct it and ungracefully throwing himself out of the way, just in time to avoid the both of them cutting one another at the exact same spot.

"_Air Slash Jutsu!_" He cried. He let off his signature arc of bladed wind and forcing the second Shoryu to retreat to a suitable range in his dodge. The boy backed up six paces, and without delay he fanned out another windmill shuriken and hurled it on a path to his foe. Thanks to impeccable marksmanship the shuriken hit its target after swerving along an obscure current, but not before Shoryu's clone held up his own two swords in defence, receiving similar cuts that Shoryu had endured before.

_This is no use_. Shoryu deduced. _I only notice my his flaws just as he exploits them. If this carries on we're both gonna end up cutting each other to ribbons._ _There has to be some way to stop him, but how? If he moves and thinks like I do then there's nothing I can come up with that he won't think of as well!_

After ducking past another series of attacks Shoryu blasted off another Air Slash to keep his foe at bay. He breathed deeply and tried with all his might to think of some way out of this mess. After all, he reminded himself, he was never going to be the most athletic or physically capable of ninja – his strength lay in his mind.

Reizo had hinted before that they could pass this test expending very little chakra if they were smart, but what could he mean by that? There was no way he'd get out of this situation without expending every last drop of energy he had in him. Shoryu pondered this, and in his absent-mindedness he was almost impaled by an incoming shuriken as the clone attacked again.

_Think Shoryu, you can't look bad again – you have to ace this! There has to be some kind of trick to this test; there's more than meets the eye here. What was it that sensei said again?_

Shoryu thought back to what Reizo had told him just a minute ago before disappearing and leaving them on their own. The three of them were now locked in duels against themselves, oblivious to the fact that he actually watched from the trees above, waiting to see who'd figure out the secret to the test first.

'The whole is greater than the sum of its parts_._'

_That's what he said_. Pondered Shoryu, blasting out another Galeforce jutsu to keep the enemy at bay. _But that's just a generic teamwork phrase, what does that have to do with anything here? How are we supposed to work together when we're just fighting ourselves?_

It was only then that Shoryu's moment of eureka struck. A smile widened across his face in realising that he'd figured it out relatively quickly: He realised that Reizo had laid out no ground rules for the test - the three of them had just _assumed _that they were supposed to fight alone. After looking around for the surrounding white marks Shoryu slowly retreated to the line, waiting patiently for his opponent to follow him.

Eventually he did; the nightmarish clone of Shoryu himself charged at full speed with swords drawn towards the real thing, determined to engage him once again in a flurry of attacks that would no doubt end in a stalemate. Once he was within five paces however, Shoryu merely stepped backwards and over the line, prompting the clone to suddenly stop and merely glare at him in silence.

_So that's it_. He mused. _These lines are their parameters, and once someone enters them the clones appear. Each zone can probably only generate one of them, that's why Reizo segregated us into separate areas. He wanted us to think that these are our arenas – lines that we're not supposed to cross, but he never specified anything. That means there's nothing stopping me from stepping in to Ayako's or Kazuya's zone in order to help them out. _

* * *

Ayako pivoted swiftly away from an incoming bolt of blue only to fire her own back and watch a mirror dodge take place. The two simultaneously launched streaming fireworks of red towards one another, both of which were blocked by a shield of yellow. Like her, the clone seemed to suffer from a lack of chakra and incredible fatigue thanks to her previous matches.

"_Red!_" The girl flashed a triad of crimson firecrackers towards her foe only to see with little surprise that the clone fired the same amount back. The distorted, twisted version of the colourful girl blocked the first with the yellow before sidestepping the second and finally being struck in the leg by the third red. Half a second later the clone's attacks closed in, and it was only too late that Ayako realised that she was initiating the exact same style of defence. She watched as if in slow-motion as the third blast of coloured chakra loomed closer and closer, threatening to singe her left knee with an explosive burst before she had time to dodge.

As she squinted her eyes and braced for the pain however, the distinct sound of sprinting footsteps padded to her left, prompting her to open them just in time to get taken out at high speeds by an incoming Shoryu. She hit the ground hard - he'd tackled her out of the line of fire, though despite her gratitude Ayako looked concerned.

"Hey." Shoryu spoke plainly as he pushed himself back up to his feet. "Thought you could use some help."

Ayako shook herself out of her momentary daze as her expression warped into a scowl. "You _idiot! _What're you doing? Get back in your own area before Reizo-sensei catches you!"

"Relax, this is what we're supposed to do." He assured her.

"Huh?" Ayako appeared confused once again. "We're supposed to defeat our own opponents by ourselves aren't we?"

Shoryu shook his head. "Think about it: How are we supposed to defeat our own clones that have exactly the same capabilities and styles as us? It just doesn't make any sense. Reizo-sensei used those first matches to divide us and make us think we were competing against each other." The boy suddenly rolled away from a blast as the evil Ayako's blue forced him to move, with the real one tailing him as he strafed sideways away from an incoming shower of colours.

"But he never said that the same applied here." Shoryu added. "He never told us we had to stay in our areas; we just assumed it because we thought we were competing. You remember what he said before? It's a teamwork analogy – there's no way to get through this unless we work together, we're a squad after all."

"Uhh. ." Ayako began to formulate an answer as she attempted to take in all that Shoryu had said between the chaos. In her distraction a supercharged red blitzed in between the two of them, forcing her to leap back in shock whilst he rolled to safety. She put up a wall of solid yellow in order to repel a series of blues before turning to Shoryu with an expression of worry, biting her lower lip in apprehension.

"You sure about this?" She checked.

Confidently Shoryu nodded; it was a look of self-belief that she hadn't seen up until now, meaning that the boy believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was right. Ayako knew that if Shoryu was to be her teammate she had to get used to trusting him fast, and starting right away would be the best way to guarantee a healthy camaraderie. Even if he was wrong, she had to take his word for it.

"Just get me as big an opening as you can." Shoryu called. He drew swords dropped into a stance, remembering that the girl was strong at long range combat. "I'll handle the rest."

Made determined by the boy's own courage, Ayako nodded and immediately shaded a mass of colour in her hands. She clapped her hands to spark up the red and blasted away at the distorted clone. Once the mirror image sidestepped the blast she fired another consecutive blue before following up again with another red; she expended chakra as rapidly as she could to give the clone no chance to attack or defend, and its focus was dedicated so much to dodging the attacks that the swiftly approaching Shoryu went unnoticed until he was within range.

Ayako stopped her rapid shading to prevent Shoryu being caught in the crossfire, and now that he'd gotten the clone in his comfort zone she could simply watch as he lunged into a brutal slash with his first sword that shattered the yellow barrier before spinning into a flourish that finished her off with the second. Defeated, the clone vanished in a puff of smoke and allowed Ayako to breathe a sigh of relief now that the ugly, twisted version of herself had gone for good.

"I sure hope you know what you're doing!" She called over, once again making sure of the boy's certainty.

"Don't worry; let's just take care of my clone before we move onto Kazuya. Be careful though, my evil twin can be particularly vicious." He joked. "If I keep him distracted can you finish him off?"

Ayako nodded. "I think so yeah – I'm not sure how much chakra I have left though; that last one really took it out of me."

"I'll try and make it as easy as I can for you – if you can just get it with one clean shot in the back then we should be fine. Just make sure you don't miss and end up killing me."

"Hey, I'm a good shot." She laughed.

With that, Shoryu took a deep breath and calmly walked back over the white line of his original zone where the feral beast of his clone still watched him with a hungry gleam in its eye. Tackling this guy wasn't something he wanted to do again, but if it meant clearing the mission and the approval of Reizo-sensei he deemed it was the only way.

He surveyed the environment of the forest's undergrowth; it was a harsh arena to battle with – footing could be lost at any moment with the dense thickets populating the ground and the roots from several of the wide-girthed trees just waiting to snag on a trouser leg or an ankle. Whilst he was over the line he felt it smart to plan out the next few moves and know exactly where to be to give him the best advantage possible.

Eventually a ravenous, beast-like roar from the perverse looking clone prompted Shoryu to leap back over the white line with a momentum that carried through his combination of horizontal swipes. Once his blitz had finished though, the clone went back on the offensive, making Shoryu duck and weave away from several of his own attacks, watching the drop of guard in his right shoulder as he plotted his footwork back onto higher ground. He struck back with almost identical moves to his predecessor as the clone dodged with equally similar manoeuvres.

An all-out duel broke out between the two as Shoryu forgot himself and gave in to the adrenaline of the battle, something which the clone seemed to have utilised to give it the edge right from the start. He spun away from a series of low attacks before hammering back with a combination of strikes containing more strength than he knew he had. His training had paid off at least, though with the results of it beginning to show the boy lamented that he had no sparring partner to practice such techniques with and experience this rush on a daily basis.

Out of the corner of his eye Shoryu eventually spied Ayako, crouching down on the ground and shading a circle on the ground with a large amount of blue dye. After seeing her battle with Kazuya he knew what she was planning immediately, and with his strategic side back in operation he flipped backwards and let loose one of his treasured shuriken to secure distance between them. He dashed left as fast as his legs would carry him, prompting the clone to launch a pair of his Air Slash Jutsu to wound the ground uncomfortably close to his heels.

_Come on, follow me!_ He willed. Shoryu growled in frustration once again as an incoming Galeforce Jutsu forced him to dive away from the vortex and out of the influence of its pull. Briefly he scanned around for the clone, noticing the familiar circle of blue just behind him moments before the pattering of footsteps alerted him to the mirror image incoming fast on his blindside. Swords clashed with Shoryu pivoting into a dangerously close block and re-engaging his clone with a series of blows. He jerked his knee away from a low hack of his enemy's shortsword and slowly begun to step backwards; a ruse to make his enemy think it had the upper hand.

One glance down told Shoryu that he'd crossed into the circle of blue, and once the clone followed him within its perimeters he flung himself backwards, firing his last shuriken as he did so. Just as he'd expected the clone held its position as it prepared to deflect the last of the four-bladed stars, never realising that it had walked right into a trap until the moment Ayako clapped her hands together.

"S_hading Jutsu: Blue Execution!"_

Upon the girl's command the circular perimeter surrounding Shoryu's clone suddenly hissed to life before branching up in the form of countless, inward facing spikes. Impaled from all sides, the twin Shoryu erupted in a puff of smoke that seeped out from his cobalt prison, leaving the real thing with a satisfied smile as he turned to Ayako.

"Nice job!" He called over.

Ayako nodded weakly and tried to force a smile back, yet before she even moved Shoryu could tell something was wrong. Suddenly she dropped to one knee, using her right hand to support her and left to clutch her chest in an attempt to stop her heavy breathing. She was out of chakra; completely drained by that last attack and unable to properly stand, as she'd accidentally dipped into her own vital life force. Shoryu ran to her side despite knowing there was little he could do to help.

"Sorry Shoryu." She gasped, steadying herself finally. "Guess that took everything out of me – I don't think I'll be able to help with Kazuya."

"It's alright." He assured. Silently he was unsure whether he'd be able to attack Kazuya's clone without backup, but he couldn't ask her to do much when she was so worn out. Even with the breaks, she'd still had two battles in a row before coming here, and both times she'd had to expend next to all of her chakra.

"You just stay here." He continued. "I've gotta make up for losing twice. I don't have much left either, but if I can just get the drop on his clone I might be able to create an opening for Kazuya." He doubted his own words after remembering how easily Kazuya had finished him before, but this time _he'd _be the one with the surprise.

* * *

With the double bladed sword in hand, Kazuya let fly attack after attack against his clone, only to find that in the clash's aftermath the thing retaliated with a different combination that he was all too familiar with. He'd underestimated this ninja abomination, and as such he'd received more cuts and bruises than he'd liked after taking his identical self so lightly.

Early on the two of them had found themselves at long range and had used the time to execute fifteen hand signs in order to activate their signature dojutsu. Spiral pattern eyes had blinked onto the playing field within seconds of each other, and moments later the two found themselves battling again. Since they'd thrown in the same number of hand signs, to Kazuya they fought on even terms just as before, but since the world had slowed down from the outside he knew that Shoryu and Ayako must've been watching the battle at a much quicker pace.

As Shoryu watched, the faster movements that he'd only glimpsed before reminded him heavily of Reizo's once he activated the Daimyo Raikyogan. He knew the science was very different though: Reizo sped up the reactions of his internal molecules to make himself faster, whereas Kazuya slowed down time for the outside world to make him _appear _faster. In the end the same effect was achieved, and Shoryu doubted he could ever keep up with these kinds of movements as he watched from outside the barrier. But he didn't have to for now - for now he just had to watch for some kind of opening.

Kazuya attacked again, whirling his bladed weapon by the handle and bringing it up with the third flourish. As he expected, the clone deftly sidestepped the move, putting Kazuya in a position to go on the offensive. He rained blow after blow upon the guard of his mirror image, clashing with four well timed attacks before hopping up and landing a powerful kick to his clone's chest.

He lunged forwards to prepare the final blow, yet before he could do so the clone sprung backwards and retreated to a medium range, at the same time firing off blasts of concentrated ice that Kazuya could only repel with those of his own making. The two took it in turns to sidestep half a dozen Cryo Blast jutsu until eventually the clone made a dash towards him; a dash Kazuya was only too happy to match. The two raced towards each other as fast as their legs would carry them, preparing for another duel at close range.

"_Wind Style: Air Slash Jutsu!_"

Shoryu's technique rang out in a comically deep and slowed down fashion to Kazuya's ears, but all the same a bladed arc of wind suddenly burst out from his palm by the sidelines to slash his clone deeply in the leg. As he expected, the clone lost balance and hit the ground hard. The spiral pattern of Kazuya's dojutsu faded from the clone's eyes, and once those plain green pupils looked up they met the sharpened edge of the boy's sword. Funnily enough though, Kazuya made no move to finish the imposter off.

"Finish him Kazuya! What are you playing at?"

In response Kazuya only stepped away from the downed form of his opponent and released his own dojutsu, if only to be on equal terms once again. "Stay out of this!" He ordered. "This is my fight – I'm taking him on by myself, like we're supposed to do."

"Kazuya we're supposed to work together! This is a teamwork exercise!" Shoryu insisted.

"And how is it that you know this?"

"Think about it – how else are we supposed to defeat opponents with the exact same moves and styles as us? Think back to what Reizo-sensei said before: 'The whole is greater than the sum of its parts' - that's what he was talking about!"

Kazuya huffed as he allowed his clone to get back to its feet. "Even if that's the case, I don't believe in two against one. And I doubt you could handle my clone anyway, so stay out of this if you know what's good for you."

Shoryu snarled in irritation before the clone suddenly turned on him with a set of slashes made hard to follow thanks to the unorthodox weapon he used. If his dojutsu had still been active Shoryu knew he would've been history by now, but even so he was still pushed back by the more capable warrior. His shoto blade was sent flying from his left hand when an incoming kick knocked it away, leaving him at the clone's mercy once a finishing blow came swooping in.

Shoryu closed his eyes instinctively out of fright, though when his death never came he was forced to open them once more. The real Kazuya had come between them, holding up his own double-bladed sword in order to halt the attack.

"You're _my _opponent. . ." He muttered to the clone. "You'll fight _me_."

With his wishes made clear, Kazuya suddenly brought up his right leg, and before Shoryu could comprehend his motives he was kicked hard in the gut, forcing him to stagger back several paces; right over the white line and out of the zone.

Shoryu clenched his fists in frustration, cursing what an insufferable jerk Kazuya was as the two began fighting in front of him once again. He knew that the boy had no hope of actually defeating the clone, and he suspected that Kazuya knew it too; the idiot was just too stubborn to accept help thanks to those stupid ideals.

The two engaged each other once again with their signature weapons reverberating off each other at impressive speeds even without the dojutsu to accelerate them. The pair had begun to run out of chakra, and as such activating that energy-consuming ability would only drain them faster. They didn't need it to have an intense battle though; Kazuya spun in a butterfly kick to avoid the sweeping blade of his clone before whirling back into the fray and matching a mirror image of his own sword.

The clone deflected the attack with a flourish and stepped back several paces in order to fire off another four blasts of the Ice Style Kekkei Genkai, making Kazuya seriously exert himself in order to survive. He matched the clone's blasts with two of his own, and with another pair incoming he sidestepped the first and vaulted from his sword into the air. In midflight however, Kazuya found himself being intercepted by the imposter, who forced him to bring up his guard quickly in order to avoid impalement.

Still lashing out at one another to no avail, the pair tumbled to the ground, and upon landing sprung to their feet to continue the exchange of blows. After another violent clash Kazuya found their blades locked together; now was his chance. If he could just overpower this twisted version of himself he could win – all he needed to do was to pour every last ounce of strength into his sword.

He did so, straining as his opponent's struggles of effort mirrored his own. Despite all his power the swords never budged an inch, refusing to move even as his arms felt about to explode with the pain. Just as he felt his strength begin to weaken however, his opponent's did too. The double edged swords still never moved from their locked position, and so in his frustration Kazuya brought up his right knee in order to break it.

At the same time though, the clone mirrored him, resulting in both smashing knees together before extending them into kicks. Kazuya felt his own foot slam into the clone's chest in the very instant that his own was hammered flat. The two recoiled; breaking the lock and staggering another five steps away from one another. Again Kazuya readied his sword to attack as his opponent mirrored, though as he moved to charge he witnessed a single blade skewer through his enemy's chest.

An unfamiliar noise to Kazuya echoed through the forest as his clone exploded in a puff of rapidly vanishing smoke. Hesitantly he checked behind him to see if the same was about to occur, only to find nothing. When he looked back however, the cause of the battle's end became apparent: Shoryu stood beyond the fleeting mist with his main sword drawn, having snuck up behind the clone and stabbed him from behind: Since he refused help, Shoryu had given it to him by force.

"You moron!" Kazuya cried, readying the double-edged sword and making for Shoryu. "I told you to stay out of it!"

Shoryu truly feared for his life upon seeing his newest teammate threateningly stalking towards him with that deadly weapon in hand. He drew his second bladed into his left hand and braced himself for defence, though with Kazuya's fifth step a shadow was suddenly cast over the boy, instinctively making him look up.

Reizo suddenly dropped down from above, grabbing Kazuya by the collar of his jacket as he landed and using the momentum to slam him to the floor. Still he kept hold of the boy's coat as he used it to pin the young samurai down, preventing him from making a move against Shoryu.

"Kazuya that has to be one of the most reckless and arrogant things I've ever seen, now what did I tell you earlier?"

Kazuya only growled in frustration as his new sensei proceeded to give him a lecture.

"How are your teammates supposed to trust you if you won't even let them _be _your teammates. Use your head: How did you really plan on beating an opponent with the exact same techniques, strategies and equipment as you? What, you thought if you just gave it everything you had and ignored everything else then things would turn out alright?"

"Well I guess we'll never know now will we?" Kazuya insisted, still adamant that he could've beaten the clone. "I was about to win before he showed up!"

"No Kazuya, you weren't – there's no way you could've won alone. With this attitude I'm beginning to wonder whether recruiting you was such a great idea; I'm still not sure if you're going to be a priceless asset or a useless, fatal liability to this squad, but making a threat against your team members _isn't _a way to get in my good books. Lose your temper against Shoryu or Ayako like that again for no reason and I'll send you right back to the academy. Are we clear?"

Several moments of awkward silence were allowed as Kazuya said nothing in reply.

"I said are we clear?" Reizo's hand was going nowhere – he wouldn't let him up until he submitted, and so Kazuya finally sighed in cooling his temper.

"Fine." He grumbled.

"Good enough." Reizo immediately released his grip on Kazuya's jacket and stood up to full height. He then turned towards Ayako's direction as the other two awkwardly followed him. "Oh and Shoryu." He added.

Shoryu looked up after sheathing both blades.

"Nice work kid – I'm surprised you figured it out so quickly."

The boy almost jumped for joy; his heart raced upon hearing such high praise from his only living icon. He'd spent the entire time since he'd acted with a fear in the back of his mind that he'd gone against the rules and had made a mistake, but now it seemed he'd worked it out correctly after all. His worries of being sent back to the academy were silenced instantly, and the whole affair only made him look forward to the next mission, knowing now that he at least was an asset to the team.

"Thank you Reizo-sensei!" He cried.

Reizo only smiled in response as the three reached Ayako, who could now just about stand after taking a short rest; previously she was able to only watch the confrontation from afar in her weakened state.

"How are you holding up?" Asked the Jonin.

"I'll be okay Reizo-sensei! This won't happen again I promise!" Assured the girl.

Shoryu contained a look of surprise; apparently this girl was just as eager to impress as he was.

"Don't worry about it – it's my fault this happened." Said Reizo. "I should've set these challenges a day apart so you had the chance to recover properly. Apparently I've still got much to learn about being your teacher, now get up on my back, I'm carrying you back to the village."

"That's really not necessary Reizo-sensei!" Insisted Ayako. "I can still walk."

"For now yeah, but you look paler than usual and I'm not letting you trek two miles uphill after exhausting all your chakra."

"But-"

"I won't take no for an answer Ayako. I'm a member of this squad too so you'll have to start trusting me too. We've all got our roles to play. Besides, I could use the exercise." Said Reizo.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Heya guys I'm back! And not just for some occasional chapter bullshit either - I'm back for good with a brand new laptop, so expect updates regularly again.

Honestly I wasn't all that happy with this chapter purely because I'm out of practice and in my eyes it's not up to the usual standards, but it should get better in the next one and at least the preliminary missions are over and we can get into some meaty plot for the following chapters.

Speaking of which, I've made a decision about the story that'll be in the next chapter that may seem a little weird and implausible in the universe of Naruto, but I can justify it completely and it's nothing really major that will affect the plot or the integrity of this story (I hope.)

So yeah, look forward to seeing my controversial decision as well as a drawing of Kazuya two weeks from now. See you then!


	8. Chapter 8 C Rank: Protect the Egg!

Chapter 8: C Rank: Protect the Egg!

Two Months Later

Shoryu awoke upon the noisy beeping of his alarm clock to the sultry smell of his mother's pancakes wafting all the way upstairs and into his room. With a sure incentive to get up, the boy quickly got dressed and packed his gear before heading down to his well-deserved breakfast. He'd had yesterday off, though he used this time only to practice his jutsu and form all day with only the essential food, water and rest. Today he'd be back on another mission with team thirteen, but not before his essential breakfast had supplied him with enough energy.

"I spoke to Reizo yesterday," voiced the boy's mother as Shoryu ate. "He said he had something special in store for you guys today."

Shoryu recalled no such promise on their last mission; it must've been something he'd only recently scheduled. "Oh yeah? What's that?" he asked.

"He wouldn't say. He said he wanted it to be a surprise," she revealed.

Shoryu's eyebrows rose in surprise at this development. Whatever it was, the boy was now more eager than ever to see what his sensei had planned for them. He swallowed the last morsel of his sugar coated pancakes before retrieving his pack and heading for the door.

"Guess I'm about to find out – see ya mom!" he called.

"Wait," insisted Yuuko. Shoryu rolled his eyes as his mother strolled over to him and planted an unnecessary kiss on his metal-protected forehead.

"Aww mom," he groaned. She did this every day, and for a teenage ninja he deemed it unnecessary and embarrassing.

"Just be careful out there alright?" Yuuko stepped away from him.

"I will, I will," he said, rolling his eyes again. "Don't worry – like I said before, a child could do the missions we're on right now. We're just doing simple errands until we get stronger; you've got nothing to worry about!"

"Well just be safe."

"I will." Shoryu opened the door, letting the fresh breeze blow at his face and ruffle his unkempt hair into its natural, wavy arrangement. "Bye mom!"

As usual, the boy crossed the wooden gangways of the village for a solid fifteen minutes to reach his destination of the Academy, which during the day also doubled up as a place for Genin and their squads to receive assignments. He wondered what kind of surprise Reizo-sensei might have for them as he traversed the sturdy bridges, enjoying the wind that blew at the village's altitude as he did so. Was he going to teach them a new jutsu, or perhaps a new form of training to make him even stronger? Whatever it was, Shoryu's mind kept him guessing and he walked in anticipation for what felt like an hour before finally reaching the Academy doors.

He entered the standard classroom they'd met at countless times now to find that Kazuya and Reizo were already present, with Ayako joining in behind him ten seconds later. She looked radiant as usual even with droopy eyes that had yet to fully awaken, and today her hair had taken on a shade of purple. Using this, he knew she could use her powers split the colour evenly between red and blue should she ever run out of supplies.

Kazuya looked as glum as always, taking on a bored outlook whenever he wasn't sitting cross-legged in that weird state of meditation he employed. In the last two months Shoryu had hesitantly deemed him _bearable, _mostly due to the fact that he hadn't almost attacked him like he did back at their initiation; not yet anyway. In fact the two had spoken barely a word to one another in over two months. Kazuya remained silent throughout most of their missions whilst still maintaining an air of superiority whenever Ayako and especially Shoryu tried so much as to speak to him. He acted like this was all too childish for him; like he was better than it all somehow. In many respects Shoryu figured he probably had a right – he'd scored a perfect fifteen in the test and was easily the most qualified Genin to graduate from the exam, despite never actually considering himself a shinobi.

"So guys, how was your day off?" the Jonin queried.

"Eh, it was alright," Shoryu offered, remaining modest about the fact that he'd spent it working himself hard to death.

"Good enough. Ayako?"

Ayako smiled and replied as she forced her eyes open, "Yeah it was good - I helped make clothes with my mother."

"Well good for you; it never hurts to spend time with family," he said sincerely, knowing that he'd be in for trouble next time he tried to spend time with his _own _family. He still hadn't confronted them since taking on Shoryu and crippling Zakari. "Kazuya?" he dared to ask.

"No comment," wearily answered the boy, never meeting his sensei's eyes.

"Yeah that's what I thought," Reizo laughed. "Well you should look happier, because today we're gonna take off the gloves and give you a real challenge." The Jonin retrieved a handy scroll from his jacket pocket and unravelled it: It was a mission briefing as usual, though the familiar lettering stamped by its title had changed to a prospect far more challenging. "This is a C-rank mission."

Both Shoryu and Ayako were stricken with a look of surprise as Kazuya turned finally to Reizo; clearly even he hadn't expected this.

"Really? A C-rank? But aren't we too inexperienced to do one of those?" checked Ayako nervously. She rationalised her query to try and make herself seem braver, noting that she must've looked like a coward to both Shoryu and Kazuya. "I mean, Genin are usually left on D-ranks for about four to five months before they move on to the C-rank missions. It's only been two months. . ."

Reizo laughed to himself before continuing, "It's alright – those are just guidelines. You and Kazuya had the highest results so it's only natural that you should be able to take on tougher missions a little sooner. Besides, you've got me around, and I've never failed a mission," he boasted.

Over the months Shoryu had noted that Reizo had a comically big ego. He never seemed pompous or a total show-off, but at the same time he never missed an opportunity to reaffirm to them just how great a ninja he was. Seeing Reizo as practically a walking god meant that Shoryu was always happy to hear his sensei's tales and it all assured him that he was in safe hands whenever Squad Thirteen went out on a new assignment.

"So. . . What's the mission about?" he asked.

"We'll be transporting goods to a mountainous region in the north. It'll be a few days to get there, meaning if you include the journey back we'll be gone from the village for just over a week."

Ayako looked around the room, still confused. "What kind of goods are we carrying? I don't see anything," she confessed.

Reizo fished around in his bag before retrieving what appeared to be an egg about the size of Shoryu's head. It was a faded tint of gold in colour, dulled by the passage of time with the occasional darkened blemish colouring the shell. Aside from its clear age there was nothing at all distinctive about it. Shoryu reckoned it was from an ostrich or some other creature that lived out in the wilderness, yet Reizo's claims were far more ambitious.

"Apparently it's a dragon egg," he said.

"_What?_" came the inevitable cries of astonishment from Ayako and Shoryu. Even Kazuya looked mildly surprised.

"Sensei, aren't dragons just myths? And if it really _was _a dragon egg then it'd be super rare – you'd be talking at _least _a B-rank mission for that kind of thing, probably an A," stated Shoryu, with Ayako nodding her head alongside him.

"Well that's the thing; I said 'apparently' for a reason. I don't think anyone, especially the Raikage, is convinced that it's really a dragon egg at all, and there's one other thing."

Shoryu and Ayako leaned forwards in intrigue.

"I've done this mission before," he revealed. Reizo shared the expressions of amazement and confusion on two of his students before elaborating once again. "So I did some research: the request is made by an anonymous client – they just give the money and ask that it be transported to the same spot every year. It's been going on like this for the last ten years with never a failure or even a hitch – the mission is done and the ninja get paid. Back when I did it about seven years ago, the mission was a B-rank, and I'm assuming before that it was an A-rank. I suppose the Raikage realised eventually that it's not really a dragon egg and got tired of assigning such an easy mission to his most elite ninja. That works out well for whoever the client is too since he or she will just have to pay less."

The group nodded in understanding.

"Well it's a C-rank alright, but since it's never gone with any real hiccups I'm sure we'll do fine. I'll use the time to teach you a few new techniques in order to improve your skills too. You've got an hour to pack your bags, after you do so meet me at the shuttles."

"Right."

The three immediately left the building and back onto the walkways of the village's spires each with different outlooks. Shoryu was excited by the idea of travelling so far – it had been his dream to roam the land as he'd stated before, and this mission could provide him with the skills he'd need to do so. Plus the money he gained from a C-rank mission would help fill his wallet considerably. He could see that Ayako was still nervous with the daunting prospect of a C-rank so soon even despite Reizo's assurance, though what struck him most was the look Kazuya sported.

For the first time in two months, Shoryu saw the boy with a genuine smile on his face; not one of malicious patronisation that he'd seen before; he seemed happy somehow, like he'd planned this all along. At first Shoryu suspected that it was merely his satisfaction at being granted something more challenging, though with Reizo's insistence that the mission would be a walk in the park he began to suspect something else. Even as he walked home and packed his things with the help of his mother, the boy's motives still played over in his mind.

It was all down to the fact that it was completely alien to him; he'd never seen Kazuya look anything beyond chastising or silently content, and just now he'd been positively _happy_. Shoryu packed a pair of spare windmill shuriken and enough food for a week, ensuring that fruit and even his most hated vegetables were on the menu for his meals. If he ever wanted to catch up to Kazuya and eventually Reizo he had to become much stronger.

"So, you're off on a C-rank mission then?" enquired his mother as the boy packed a loaf of bread. "Isn't it a little early for that?"

"Yeah Ayako said that, but Reizo assured us that it wouldn't be all that hard – apparently he's done it before."

But Yuuko wasn't interested in the mysterious mission that concerned the supposed 'dragon egg'; what had piqued her curiosity was something Shoryu believed to be far more trivial. He'd hid it from her for two months for this exact reason, though a slip of the tongue had doomed him to her questions.

"Wait, 'Ayako'? Aww, Shoryu you never told me there was a _girl _on your squad."

"Oh come on, don't-" he began to protest.

"Do you like her? Is she pretty?"

Shoryu sighed as he buckled his leading sword onto his back, careful not to get his tangled with his oversized backpack. "Yes. . ." he finally groaned.

"Aww, you should ask her out!" she teased.

Shoryu sighed again. Ayako was indeed exactly the kind he'd go for: she was smart, charming, sweet and beautiful, and in the last two months they'd made great friends. He was unsure of whether she felt the same way back, though one strict part of his personal code restricted him from asking her anything of the sort. "Mom, there's a time for romance and there's a time for getting stronger. I'm only thirteen, so I'd say now is the latter."

Shoryu waited for a response for a few agonising seconds before one came in the most unlikely manner. His mother suddenly burst out laughing; was she making fun of him for trying to be mature? He waited for her to elaborate, but the woman simply fell into hysterics, prompting an annoyed Shoryu to press her for an answer.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

Yuuko's laughing eventually subsided as she replied, "Nothing really, it's just that when we got married, your grandmother told me that your father said that exact same thing to her a bunch of times when the two of us ended up on the same squad."

Shoryu's concealed a gasp at hearing such a startling coincidence. Was she just messing with him to try and make him embarrassed? No – why would she? She rarely spoke about his father to him, so anything he could get out of her had become vital to him.

"Wow. . ." he breathed, only now realising how much he must've taken after the man. "So. . . How did you two end up together then?"

"Well we were on a squad together for six years until he finally asked me out on a date. He was eighteen by the time he plucked up the courage."

_Yup, _deduced Shoryu. _That sounds like me alright – give it another five years__. For now I've got nothing to worry about._

"Oh, and before you go," said Yuuko as she remembered something. The woman retreated into a nearby storage closet and searched around for a few moments, leaving Shoryu to merely stand at the doorway looking perplexed. "It gets colder up north so you'll need to keep warm unless you want to catch something," she said.

Finally the boy's mother emerged from the small opening with a simple waist jacket in hand, stitched in a night sky blue with a lighter shade trimming its edges. It was roughly Shoryu's size; if anything a tad too big for him, though he liked the look of it regardless.

Yuuko smiled. "Something for the road – call it a late graduation present."

"Whoa." With only another sound of wonder to reply Shoryu took the jacket and threw it on. As he'd guessed, the sleeves were just a little loose, but in a year or two's time he knew it would fit him perfectly. The material was soft on his skin, though clearly tough and thick enough to take a hard time as it clearly had done already. A small patch of colour had faded from its back, presumably from crossing harsh terrain in the middle of a demanding winter.

"This was my father's wasn't it?" he guessed.

"Yes: that was Shoichi's combat jacket," said Yuuko.

"Mom, I can't take something so-"

"Please," she insisted, forcibly fixing the collar with one hand and straightening it with the other. "You must – he'd want you to have it. It's better out there than just gathering dust in some cupboard under the stairs."

"Well. . ." Shoryu considered; clearly the jacket meant a great deal to his mother, and the danger of harming such a precious thing would be constantly weighing over him if he took it. Then again, the presence of odd stitching in three or four places meant the thing was used to it. "Alright," he conceded. The boy took another glance in the makeshift mirror of his spotless kitchen window before noticing something he'd not seen before. On the jacket's right fold an insignia was clearly emblazoned in purple, one he didn't recognise.

"Hey mom, what's this thing here?" he pointed to it. "I never knew my father was part of a clan?"

"He never really spoke about his family very much. I know they were a very small group; he mentioned a few brothers and sisters but I never saw any of them, not even at our wedding. And if they had any kind of special jutsu I know he never got around to learning it."

"Oh. . . it looks cool," he remarked, turning to the door. "Well I'll be off then. Try not to miss me too much."

"Right back at you! You might be all big and tough now but you'll be crying like a baby without my cooking in the morning!"

As the two shared a laugh and Shoryu headed out the boy realised that his mother had been right. He'd have to wing it out in the wilderness and survive on the canned, no doubt over or undercooked crap he'd call food. Being raised by such an overprotective mother meant he'd yet to acquire such basic skills, and any time he could've set aside to learn them he'd spent either in training or relaxing. The absence of his warm bed would also be a problem, but he told himself that walking all day and the subsequent intense training would put him to sleep like a log.

Once again Shoryu headed over to the shuttles that led down to the ground-level on the other side of the village. He'd carried out a handful of missions down there like the aid of farming and escorting traders since his first experience with it, and in that time he'd become fully accustomed to the ride and was wholly convinced that the secure wire could hold another ten tonnes before it dropped them. As usual, Reizo was the first there, waiting for Shoryu in one of the stationary pods.

Ayako arrived a few moments later, followed soon after by Kazuya. Shoryu couldn't help but wonder where exactly the guy lived: his clan and village lay far to the south and he had no guardians as such that the boy knew of. He must've lived in the village; that much was certain. Shoryu supposed that his clan must've paid for his fee to live there in exchange for the money he brought back into their clan for completing missions and the like.

After a smooth ride to the surface the foursome headed out immediately, towards and then through the forest in which they'd looked for colour two months ago and carried out their second initiation mission. Shoryu enjoyed the walk and spent whatever time he could spare blasting off a jutsu into the trees or hurling a shuriken to a faraway target, keeping himself on a strict regimen of training that would help him stay focused even whilst on the move. Kazuya and Ayako exhibited no such methods, though since they were naturally ahead of him Shoryu figured he needed all the training he could get in order to catch up.

Reizo informed them that they'd be on the move for a solid day and a half before stopping at a town named Kateri. Once there, Reizo would gather some more supplies and the group would have the chance to see a different culture aside from that of the Village Hidden in the Clouds. Further up north they'd encounter the village of Hilan, a small hamlet just a few miles south of their destination. On their way back the Jonin assured them that an annual festival would be in full swing at Kateri, allowing them to spend their hard-earned money they'd saved over the months.

The group said little as they walked. Whenever he wasn't spinning a shuriken over his head Shoryu would occasionally talk to Ayako in order to pass the time, and Reizo joined in whenever the subjects of the village or their training came up. Kazuya on the other hand remained completely silent and absorbed in his own world. He stayed at least five paces away from them at all times and ignored any comments made about him.

As a small experiment to test the samurai's iron-clad state of passive-aggressiveness, Shoryu took it upon himself to retrieve the flute he had stowed away in his side pocket. Despite him walking a few yards ahead, the boy's ears pricked up once he heard the melodic whistle of the simple instrument. At an educated guess Shoryu supposed that similar instruments existed back in his own village, as his mother had told him before that his father picked up the flute from a similar place not too far south. The sound must've reminded Kazuya of his home, and as such his expression generally softened up just a little and he grew less bitter as soon as he heard the high-pitched chime.

After walking all day through the northern woods with only a handful of stoppages the sun began to set, so Reizo at last commanded that the group stop to make camp. It was still too early in the day to be going to sleep, though he deemed that they'd made good time and needed the one or two hours of sunlight they had left to practice a new trick.

"Alright," he started. "I'm going to teach you all a new technique today that should help you in your chakra control. You see chakra control can be a difficult thing to master: it's common for Genin and even Chunin to use either too much or too little during battle, and it becomes inefficient – you can waste your chakra and become completely drained in just a few moves if you're not careful, which is something that could get you killed."

Ayako gulped.

"As such, it's best to kick the habit of wasting chakra early, so that mastering how much or how little you put in becomes second nature. I'm going to teach you a method of moulding jutsu called the 'Stream' technique that should help you with this, and luckily all three of you can perform jutsu that are compatible with the move. I'll demonstrate."

As Reizo rolled up his sleeves Shoryu knew immediately what move his sensei was about to employ. He took great care to study it with detail, having only ever seen it once before and being in awe of how powerful it was. The second and most powerful level of the Raikyogan weilded by modern ninja was surely a sight to behold.

"_Daimyo Raikyogan!_" he cried. Instantly a surge of electric blue washed over the man's bolt shaped markings of his hands and all the way up the tribal signs etched along his forearm. His eyes finally shifted to the same colour, sporting a series of miniature bolts stretching out from his iris and shivering wildly with the current of thunder coursing through them.

"_Lightning Javelin! Stream!"_

Shoryu watched as the same bolt of lightning he'd seen before erupted from his sensei's palm to fry the flat side of a nearby tree into nothing more than blackened, sizzling bark. Instead of releasing one explosive attack however, the move was thinner and weaker, though it never stopped in its assault. Reizo carried on almost effortlessly blasting the tree with the continuous stream for a full fifteen seconds before finally letting go and releasing his prized dojutsu.

He dusted off his hands, turning back to the group to explain, "The trick is to release your chakra as a steady flow rather than just one explosive burst," he revealed. "Like I said, the three of you each have compatible jutsu: Shoryu, you try it with the Air Slash, Kazuya can try it with the Cryo Blast, and Ayako, use it with the red Shading Jutsu."

Shoryu nodded and took his place opposite one of the many ferns populating the clearing as Ayako and Kazuya did the same at either side of him. The three fell into respective stances, bearing the hand signs of their signature attacks and directing varying forms of chakra to the points of their seals.

"Remember:" reminded the Jonin. "A steady stream – imagine your chakra as a waterfall rather than a water balloon."

With this in mind Shoryu executed the jutsu.

"_Wind Style: Air Slash Stream!_"

"_Cryo Blast Stream!_"

"_Shading Jutsu! Red Stream!"_

Rather than one burst of chakra, Shoryu did as Reizo instructed and let a steady flow of his energy seep from his fingertips, realising immediately that this was far more difficult than merely visualising a waterfall. At first he poured too much chakra into the hand seal, and so he lowered the volume only a touch to find that the force of his powerful wind blades weakened into nothing more than the breeze of a handheld fan.

With this in mind Shoryu concentrated more chakra to the points of his fingers as the Air Slash geared up once again to a far more powerful level beyond his control. The ordeal was agonising; not only did he have to manipulate the amount of chakra to a level finer than he thought possible, but at the same time the strain such a powerful technique put on his body was made unbearable. At such a young age Shoryu had no idea how to describe such an experience, though he'd later come to compare it to 'supporting more than your own weight on a bench press whilst trying to count the exact amount of beans in a jar.'

Once Shoryu tried again to regulate the flow of chakra he suddenly found himself going overboard. He sunk to one knee out of sheer exhaustion and after losing control again the volatile Air Slash slipped from his grasp like a wet bar of soap. Buckets of sweat dripped from his unruly mane of hair and his heart raced inside his chest at close to two hundred beats a minute. To his left, Kazuya looked just as tired as he did, though to his right, Ayako was far worse.

The poor girl; even the first time Shoryu saw her fight he knew that she had a slight issue with her chakra. Either she contained only a small amount within her body or her control was out of balance. Shoryu hoped it was the latter, as it was something that she'd be able to work on, whereas having a naturally low supply of chakra wasn't something any amount of training could hope to correct.

"I'll admit, I wasn't expecting much for your first try," began Reizo. "Ayako you managed about a second and a half. Shoryu and Kazuya, you both managed about two seconds."

_Two seconds?_ wondered Shoryu. One look at Kazuya told him that the samurai's thought process mirrored his own. _But that felt like a lifetime! This must be a pretty good technique if just two seconds can wear me out this badly!_

Yet Reizo was hardly finished yet; to spice things up for the team he introduced a challenge for the three of them. "Whichever of you can make it to ten seconds, being steady and controlled without stopping once, will get my fee for this C-Rank assignment on top of their own. If none of you can accomplish it during the week we're out here then I'll just keep it for myself."

Reizo relished the looks of motivation on his three subjects as Kazuya immediately pushed himself back to his feet and formed another hand sign. This time he managed only one second from the Cryo Blast Jutsu thanks to his lack of remaining chakra, but even a second near-collapse experience never stopped him from finding his legs again and trying one more time.

"Easy Kazuya – you don't want to go burning yourself out so quickly, especially since I've got more training for you."

Kazuya was about to fire off a third blast before Reizo's revelation demanded his courtesy. Wordlessly he turned back to the raven-haired sensei.

"Actually, it's more like teaching if I'm honest," Reizo confessed. "Kazuya, until I say otherwise you will personally train Shoryu in the art of kenjutsu."

"_What?_" horrified cries from both Shoryu and Kazuya suddenly frightened off the few remaining birds in the area. The very idea of spending time together was unbearable for the two of them. Ayako almost laughed at the cringe-worthy awkwardness as the two locked eyes in a glare of common resentment.

"Sensei, I really must protest-"

"You don't get to protest Shoryu, this is happening." Reizo interrupted.

Kazuya stopped to object, "Sensei, with all due respect: you really can't expect me to train this talentless idiot can you? Why waste my time?"

"Yeah right!" complained Shoryu. "What makes you think I need training from you?"

"Enough! Both of you!" Reizo demanded, waiting for the boys to be silent for a few moments before elaborating. "This isn't just to be cruel to you both – there are reasons for this decision."

"Such as what?" demanded Kazuya.

"Well first of all, the two of you have been on this team together for two months and you've said barely a word to each other since your first day!" observed the sensei, wrangling begrudging looks of acceptance out of the two. "I figured this would fix itself with a bit of time, but since we're onto C-Rank missions now we'll have to do it the hard way. And secondly, you both could use the practice, Shoryu especially – I'm no good with a sword but Kazuya is from a clan that specialises in kenjutsu; we're killing two birds with one stone here."

"But I don't want to!" Incidentally the two boys shouted the exact same line with microseconds of the other, leading to another loathing glance, as if they crossed a serious line from daring to even think in the same way.

Reizo chuckled. "See look at that, you're agreeing already. And anyway I didn't ask what you wanted – I'm not your father, your brother or your best friend; I'm your teacher, and you'll follow my lead as long as I'm captain of this team."

"But sensei-"

Once again the Jonin cut off Kazuya's complaint. "I'll tell you what: if either of you refuse to do this, the stream challenge will be called off - I'll keep the money for myself."

Immediately Shoryu saw through the hand his sensei had played. It was a sneaky trick to say the least, but he had to give him credit – it was smart of him. Reizo knew that Ayako and Shoryu had made good friends over the last nine weeks, and that friendship would be put on the line if Shoryu refused. Could he honestly look her in the eye again in knowing that he'd potentially robbed her of at least thirty thousand ryo?

"Fine," Shoryu conceded at last. "You win sensei, I'll do it."

"Good, and you Kazuya?" asked Reizo.

For a few seconds Kazuya was only silent as he considered. Shoryu would've staked money on him still refusing, which was why his next words surprised the boy:

"I'll think about it," he said.

Shoryu narrowed his eyes in suspicion; what incentive could Kazuya possibly have for agreeing to this demand? What were the pros? He'd never shown that he cared about insulting Shoryu or Ayako. Shoryu figured that training him would be an insult to his honour or some other samurai moral that he thought was stupid and unnecessary, so why even consider saying yes? Was he really that bothered about winning?

"I'll expect your answer by tomorrow night then," assumed Reizo.

"Okay," Kazuya agreed. "Excuse me sensei."

With only a couple hours of sunlight remaining Kazuya walked off alone to the countryside. Shoryu presumed it was either to train or perform that strange meditation technique that he often exhibited, but on the chance that Kazuya was off to practice the stream technique Shoryu knew he had to do the same. He wouldn't be beaten – not again.

With his latest rivalry spurring him on Shoryu left setting up camp to Reizo and set off into the wilderness to find a spot suitable for his training. After around five minutes of heading west the boy came to a small stream, weaving through a set of rocky banks and surrounded by suitably decaying trees on all sides.

"Here should do," he declared, falling into a sequence of three hand signs. Even since their training missions Shoryu had become so adept at the D-Rank jutsu that he could pull off the Air Slash with just a single sign, though immense control was required for the stream technique, making the whole three necessary.

"_Wind Style: Air Slash Stream!_"

Just as before, a torrent of countless, tiny wind blades erupted from Shoryu's sign of the bird to lacerate the bark from his targeted tree. Again he struggled to regulate the amount of chakra that came from his palms, resulting in a jutting effect, rising and falling in intensity at every blink of the eye. After another two seconds that felt like an immeasurable infinity Shoryu sunk to his knees again, exhausted from his lack of chakra. The boy quickly realised that there was no easy way of doing this; the stream technique could only be mastered through trial and error; seeing where one had gone wrong and tweaking their chakra only slightly to get used to the fine control.

Once more Shoryu rose and blasted off the technique again, only to find that as he expected, he did far worse due to not recovering properly.

_Well that's one thing to remember,_ he noted. _I need to replenish my chakra before trying __again – there's no point in practicing when I'm all out. If I know Kazuya he'll keep on going and going without taking a break, but he won't progress quickly if he does that – the only way to win this is to wait between attempts; it's easier to do with a c__lear head and a decent supply of energy. _

With this in mind, Shoryu retreated down to the stream and collapsed onto the bank, soaking his head in the cool water and filling up his flask before downing it in just a few gulps. For a few minutes the boy simply sat and listened to the unseen birds chirping in the depths of the forest. Far off in the distance though, Shoryu could distinctly hear the cry of Kazuya's practicing.

"_Cryo Blast Stream!_"

A crash of shattering ice broke the stillness of the wind as a flock of birds fled to the skies some half a mile north. Only a few seconds later though, Kazuya tried again; and then again as the tirade of ice only grew weaker in potency. Shoryu smiled; Kazuya had done exactly as he thought – the guy was too stubborn to take a break, even if it would work out better for him in the long run.

After cooling off Shoryu got back to his feet. He still would've preferred a complete recovery, though his heart rate had slowed at least and the water had quenched his thirst. Wasting no time, the boy took his place opposite the same tree.

"_Wind Style: Air Slash Stream!"_

Again Shoryu's chakra dropped like a stone in trying to sustain the explosive jutsu for more than a half-second. He steadied the flow of chakra as instructed, pouring it from his hands like a waterfall rather than a bomb. After what felt like a lifetime the technique jumped from Shoryu's hands again like a slippery fish, yet something was different this time: he'd held it for longer. Not much longer – perhaps a tenth of a second, though a tenth of a second was vital when faced with such an exhausting task. Whilst he'd still jutted like a malfunctioning vacuum the flow had been far more regular than it had been the last time and he'd ended the jutsu with a little more energy to spare, whereas the sound of distant Cryo Blasts told him that Kazuya had not made the same progression.

_It's just trial and error Shoryu_, _he might be better than me, but I'm starting to get the hang of it much quicker,_ he told himself. _We'll __see who wins this time Kazuya._

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hey guys, I know it's been a while, sorry about that. I couldn't upload the picture of Kazuya earlier in the week since my scanner has died and I didn't want to post this chapter without it, so it's up now. :) You guys might notice it - I thought a cool thing to do would be to put his clan's insignia on his sword rather than his clothing. He is a samurai after all.

So yeah, you may remember last time that I said I'd make a fairly odd move considering Naruto's universe, which as you probably realised is the inclusion of a dragon egg. Here's the thing: there's basically every other kind of creature in the series and I know the myth concerning dragons is at least still intact - there's a couple of references them like the technique 'Dragon Flame Jutsu' and 'Water Dragon Jutsu', so they have to be based off something that the characters know of right? So yeah there's my justification - it might seem like a weird thing to do but I just wanted to introduce something new.

The stream challenge is something I put in to replace the tree-climbing exercise in Naruto. According the the Naruto-wiki it's another one of the good techniques for learning how to use chakra efficiently, and since the group it just starting out it seems fitting.

Also, I know the whole Shoryu's new jacket scene was a bit weird and it seems a little silly, but when I described him in chapter 1 he's just wearing a shirt and trouser-shorts, but in the picture I drew he's wearing a jacket with a clan insignia on it, so I figured I had to incorporate it.

Anyway, this chapter's late arrival will just mean that the next chapter will come sooner, and since the plot's finally showing itself - stay tuned!


	9. Chapter 9 The Approach of a New Threat

Chapter 9: The Approach of a New Threat

After another hard day's ramble through treacherous forestry Squad Thirteen finally came to the town of Kateri just past noon of their second day. They'd packed up at first dawn's light and continued the march northward without a minute to spare, making good time as a result.

Kateri was a simple town home to people of all nationalities, brightly coloured and modestly furnished from north to south. No more than a few thousand lived there; Shoryu reckoned it was a similar amount to the people of his own village, yet the difference was that these people were not ninja. Being surrounded by them day after day meant that Shoryu had gotten so accustomed to them that it seemed strangely foreign to him. Up in the Village Hidden in the Clouds, around nine in ten people he saw were ninja or ninja in training. Here there were almost none; as the group of four walked through the streets he saw no headbands or concealed shuriken and kunai.

The idea of stalls and houses being placed between flat roads rather than a series of spires and rigid walkways made the boy feel uneasy. He'd become so used to having a narrow maze for a home that the wide, curving streets served to intimidate him at first.

With the festival just a few days away the town was alive with folk from all over the world who had come early to see one of the greatest markets in existence. Ayako often found herself having to duck around or push her way past a crowd of people, her smaller size making navigating the mob far more difficult. Close to an hour passed before the group made it to the town's north side, where Reizo had instructed them to stay put at the main entrance whilst he made his way back into town for supplies.

"_Wind Style: Air Slash Stream!_"

Finally Shoryu's technique broke the deathly silence the trio experienced, as suddenly he hopped from his perched seat of a rock and blasted off an array of wind blades sharp enough to carve a turkey. Three seconds later found him on his knees, just as Kazuya had been for the last thirty seconds. Where Kazuya appeared exhausted though, Ayako noted that Shoryu was back on his feet first. Rather than fire off another wave like the stubborn samurai, Shoryu instead opted to simply return to his rock where he withdrew the flute and whistled out an improvised melody.

"You both seem to be getting better. It's more progress than I've made anyway," said Ayako. She noticed quickly that despite Kazuya being far more naturally talented, Shoryu had devised a better strategy for training the stream technique, and as a result he'd just about taken the lead. It was less than half a second's difference though, and since neither had gotten to three seconds yet she figured it was still anyone's game.

"It's still not enough though," Kazuya insisted, getting to his feet. "_Cryo Blast Stream!_"

As a volley of ice blitzed its way up the northern road Shoryu wanted nothing more than to point out to Kazuya the error of his ways, since the constant repeat of that cracking, grating blast of ice had grown from fascinating to annoying fast. He knew that if he pointed out that Kazuya should practice in intervals it would do no good; even if the boy figured there was any truth to his words he'd still ignore them out of spite.

"How long did sensei say we had before the next town?" Shoryu asked, eager to set off again. Whilst Kateri intrigued him he knew the real show would be at the festival on their return journey, and the life amongst crowds didn't suit him anyway. He'd longed to travel for as long as he could remember; now that he'd experienced it, being on the road felt closer to home than the village itself. It was a feeling he knew he'd never get bored of until he'd crossed the entire land and seen everything there was to see with his own eyes. Should that ever happen, he knew for certain that his life would be complete.

"If we set off soon Reizo-sensei said we should be there by tom-"

"_Cryo Blast Stream!_" Kazuya's chant suddenly cut off the girl's reply. She gave the back of his head a look of obvious resentment before continuing.

"By the midday tomorrow. We'll carry on north and leave the egg at the drop point, then head straight back the next morning." She spoke quickly to ensure her speech wasn't interrupted again.

"Cool," said Shoryu.

"Who has the egg now anyway?"

"Oh, I do." Shoryu carefully lowered his pack to the floor and routed around before retrieving the oversized egg, blanketed for safety inside a spare shirt he'd packed. The boy unravelled the object and took another long look at it. It was a curious artefact, interesting enough that he found himself questioning the impossibility of its claim - it seemed far too detailed and intricate in design for a prank. It wasn't solid – he could tap it for an echoing noise, but neither was it completely hollow. _Something _was inside it at least, though to satisfy their curiosity and smash it would mean a failure of the mission.

"Think there's any truth to it?" he asked aloud. He voiced his concerns directly to Ayako, to his surprise though, Kazuya was the one who answered first.

"Of course not, don't be absurd."

"I hate to say it Shoryu but Kazuya's right," agreed the girl.

Shoryu shook his head. "I'm not saying that it's real, I'm just saying it might have _one day_ been real. You know, like frozen over the ages," he explained.

"That's ridiculous," Ayako dismissed.

"Is it?" Shoryu held his ear to the faded bronze shell and once again tapped its side as if knocking on someone's door. "It definitely seems to be an egg of some kind."

"If it really was an egg then it would've hatched in ten years, and anyway there's no way to tell whether or not it's the same one Reizo-sensei and all those before him had to carry."

The boy nodded and shrugged. "Good point. It just seems weird that someone would shell out all that money for A and B-rank missions in the past just for something that's an elaborate joke."

"I hate to say it but he's got a point," Kazuya called over. "_Cryo Blast Stream!_"

As the samurai went back to freezing invisible foes Shoryu and Ayako exchanged looks of honest surprise: Kazuya had actually acknowledged something Shoryu had said. The boy wondered whether this counted as progress for the two of them until Reizo's return interrupted his train of thought.

Striding out of the village like a lone soldier returning from battle, Reizo carried two enormous bags of food, tearing at the seams from the strain he'd placed upon them. The man carried so much that his total arm movement was restricted to just a few inches. "Ahh," he sighed in relief as he dropped the two bags to the floor. Clearly he'd had to walk far.

"Sensei," Shoryu quizzed, voicing his partners' concerns. "Why did you buy so much stuff?"

Reizo circled his shoulders to loosen up as he explained, "Two reasons: firstly, Hilan just up the road isn't exactly known for its cheapness, and secondly for training. I'm not going to carry any of that stuff; the three of you will divide it amongst yourselves."

Shoryu's neck suddenly relaxed as his head sank in a prolonged sigh. He was already carrying more than he needed to without having more stuff to weigh him down. He gently placed the egg back in his pack before swinging it back around his shoulders, freeing his hands and arms to give him as much room as possible.

"Just one more rule," said Reizo, smiling like an imp. "Shoryu carries the most."

"_What? _Why me?" complained the boy. In just thirty seconds his life had gone from fine, to bad, and then to worse.

"Simple: you're too skinny. You might've gotten a little bigger since you joined this team but you'll need to be stronger to keep up with Kazuya's training."

"But I didn't even agree yet!" Kazuya cried, still having until evening to decide, though for all his insistence the qualified veteran had him pegged already.

"With 'yet' being the operative word," Reizo replied. "Now come on, we need to set off right away."

* * *

By six thirty Shoryu's arms and shoulders had been worked to complete exhaustion. Once they set up camp, simply moving his arms had become an ordeal that made him feel like he'd been lifting a house for the last six hours rather than just a few bags of supplies. A peek inside earlier in the day had proved to him what he'd suspected all along: the bags were packed with such foods as potatoes and rock cakes. For the first few hours he'd even taken solace in the fact that a large portion of his pack was occupied by the featherweight 'dragon egg' until Reizo noticed this and replaced it with only more food.

Still, the change of scenery from a dreary forest to a wide open grassland was something he welcomed. The planes of the Land of Lightning brought with them a nippy breeze that helped cool him down, a breeze that was missing amongst the giant trees of the Village's surrounding woods. The grass of a dull yellow smelled lemony in the wind, and since it never came past his ankles Shoryu was grateful that it didn't slow him down. Ponds and tiny rivers dotted the hike every few miles or so to provide a welcome den for the group to sit down and take the occasional break.

Squad Thirteen camped in the shadow of an overarching elm tree a quarter of an hour west of the main road to Hilan, atop a small and grassy mound where the ground was perfect for their tent. A small stream running past one side of the tree gleamed under the late sunlight as the sky turned a pale orange. With Reizo sensing their fatigue, the group had retired early to help set up camp and use up some of their plentiful food. By seven thirty Shoryu felt a little better; good enough to work on the stream technique at least. Reizo on the other hand had bigger plans for him. With the day's labour keeping his attention focused Shoryu had forgotten completely that if his sensei's prediction came true he'd be sparring with Kazuya soon, or perhaps he just didn't want to think about it.

He returned from a short walk with a bundle of dry wood for the budding fire and began placing them so carefully one would think he was building a home. Admiring the boy's handiwork, Reizo marched over, and with a series of four hand signs executed in blindingly fast succession the man sent a jet of translucent, silvery flame from the very tips of his fingers.

"_Fire Style: White Blaze," _he ordered. Shoryu only stood and marvelled at the Jonin's results as the stray twigs and broken branches he'd found lit up like a funeral pyre. He never even knew Reizo could use the fire style.

Reizo said, "That should keep us going for a few hours," and turned back to Kazuya, who sat meditating with his free time. "Kazuya!" he cried, snapping the boy back into consciousness. "It's time to make your decision. The sun will be gone in a few hours so you'd best make the most of the time."

Shoryu recoiled. _Oh yeah. . . That_, he reminded himself. The boy steeled himself for Kazuya's refusal - for the moment where he'd look like a fool because he was willing when the young samurai was not. He looked to Ayako and shrugged.

Kazuya finally replied, giving the answer Shoryu had least expected. "Argh, fine," he grunted. "Come on, let's find somewhere flat."

"Well don't worry about it; I'm sure you have perfectly good reasons to - . . ." Shoryu immediately paused; had he heard Kazuya right? "Wait, what?" he finished.

"I said come on, we're wasting time."

"Uhh," Shoryu managed. He looked around the camp; Ayako looked just as shocked as he did, though she smiled and beckoned him on, eager to see how this would turn out. Reizo on the other hand merely smiled with a smug look of false courtesy. He knew something about why Kazuya had accepted; that much was certain. From the very moment of its suggestion Shoryu had been flat out certain that Kazuya would refuse. He'd never even considered the possibility of a yes.

Kazuya had already started off down the sloping hill when he called back. "You coming or not?"

With eyebrows raised Shoryu looked back to Ayako for support. She only winked and pointed after Kazuya. "Have fun," she jested.

Sighing in resignation, Shoryu started after Kazuya, keeping five paces behind him as he seemed to prefer. For ten minutes the two walked across the Land of Lightning in total silence. Shoryu figured he'd seen at least three decent spots to train but he daren't tell that to Kazuya, who seemed completely focused on finding the perfect location. Eventually the pair happened upon a great elm tree not unlike the one their camp had been set up under. Here though, the ground was completely flat, and soft enough underfoot for them to run at full speed whilst being dry enough for them not to get stuck in mud.

"Here should do," Kazuya deemed. Shoryu looked around and took in a lungful of air to prepare himself, though when he looked back Kazuya had gone. Two seconds later the scraping hiss of the samurai's abilities sounded above him, followed by a snap like the brittle bones of a chicken. As he looked up Shoryu suddenly found himself face to face with a pair of falling sticks, and so he lurched back as Kazuya dropped from the tree a few feet away.

Before him two pieces of wood clattered to the grass, caked in ice at the very tips of one end where Kazuya had broken them from the tree. It was only when he looked to Kazuya did Shoryu realise what they were for. In his hand the samurai held his own, longer stick and twirled it around his fingers, checking the balance. Cautiously the boy picked up the two makeshift swords, noting that they were around the same size as his own.

"Why do you need to train with these?" Shoryu asked. "Sensei taught me the blocking jutsu they used for our examination."

"Using my own weapon sounds tempting but we'll be better off with these. I noticed a while back that the blocking jutsu softens the impact of blows a little. With these we'll feel the full force of an attack, or rather. . ." The faintest hint of a smile traced Kazuya's lips. "_You_ will."

"Fantastic," Shoryu muttered cynically. "And why is that important?"

Kazuya smirked again, this time a little more noticeably. "So you'll have an incentive to block it next time," he said. "Now come on, let's see what you can do."

Shoryu took stance and readied both sticks, though just as he did in their last battle, Kazuya simply stood aloof and off guard. Another wave of anger seethed through Shoryu, enough to make him rush forwards at full speed and launch into an attack, slashing his first sword downwards. Kazuya sidestepped the attack as gracefully as a swaying palm tree with only minimal movement to find himself securely on Shoryu's blindside.

The boy retaliated with a turning swing of his second makeshift blade. Kazuya ducked down to avoid it so casually that he could be mistaken for inspecting a curious insect on the floor, and before Shoryu could avoid it the stinging pain of a powerful whack coursed across the back of his after the first blow Shoryu had completely read Kazuya's intentions; that attack would leave bruises the size of small fruit on both of his joints behind the knee, crippling his walking with a series of sensitive aches at every step for a good number of days. It was not an attack one would use for friendly sparring.

"I get it," said Shoryu, pushing back to his feet. "For the next hour or two you're going to beat me blue so that I'll refuse to do this again tomorrow, that way you don't fail anything and you get to keep your damn honour intact."

Kazuya finally dropped into stance as he turned back to face the boy. "That's half of it," he revealed. Before Shoryu could ask what the other half was though, the swift movement of Kazuya's wooden staff swung a powerful thrust towards him. Barely Shoryu managed to block with the edge of his first sword before a stepping kick knocked him off balance and right into the path of a second slash. This one connected with a crushing force so strong to his upper right arm that for a moment he thought it broken.

But the arm was the least of his worries. In his recoil Kazuya jabbed him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him so that Shoryu pitched forwards in agony, struggling to fill his lungs with air until a whack to the shins put him down completely.

"This is embarrassing," judged Kazuya. "We've been out here one minute and you've already gone down twice; you should just quit now."

Before Kazuya had spoken Shoryu had considered staying down. It probably would've been the smart thing to do, but he wouldn't give Kazuya the satisfaction. He expected; _wanted _him to give up like the good little weakling he saw Shoryu as, and proving Kazuya wrong had been the most important thing in Shoryu's life ever since he met the boy.

"You know. . ." the boy said as he found his feet. "It's a good plan that you've got worked out, making me quit. But there's just one thing you didn't consider."

"And what would that be?" Kazuya asked, humouring him.

"I'm not going to quit. No matter how hard you beat me I'd die before I gave you that pleasure," he stated bravely, falling back into stance.

For a few moments Kazuya merely stood there. His eyes found the ground and his length of white hair shadowed his expression from Shoryu's gaze, yet for the briefest moment the boy saw something; it was the same thing he'd seen just two days ago after they'd received this mission: a face of genuine happiness that seemed an odd look for him. Whether it was the pleasure of beating Shoryu senseless, he had no idea, but it still remained an intriguing sight.

"I guess we'll have to see about that!" he suddenly cried, amplifying his words with an unwarranted swing of his dummy sword. Dodging by just a hair's breadth, Shoryu snapped backwards and just out of the attack's reach before bounding forwards and stringing three consecutive attacks together. The loud clack of wood on wood resounded around the small clearing as Shoryu attacked. Kazuya blocked every blow simply by twirling the stick from its midpoint as he did his own weapon, and with Shoryu's combination out of the way he sidestepped back into a decent position.

Shoryu rolled to safety as the horizontal swing of the samurai's staff found only the traction of his chocolate wave of hair, and by the time he'd got back to his feet Kazuya was upon him again. The boy parried a pair of strikes with both edges of his sword before barely ducking a third. Kazuya's stick then levelled fast into his side before he had time to dodge; after blocking just four swings Shoryu had been convinced for a few seconds that he was getting the hang of this too.

The boy felt his side sear with pain as his wishful thinking suddenly cracked along with a pair of ribs. Another blow then connected with his face, smacking him perfectly right along the cheekbone and connecting with his ear, missing his temple mercilessly so that he felt every ounce of pain as he crashed to the floor.

Shoryu groaned. Every part of him cried out to just stop, or to get out of there as fast as he could, though his pride interfered. He got back to feet as his ear ached like a hornet sting and the inside of his mouth swilled with blood from his gums.

"You might have to hit a little harder," he said. Shoryu spat out a whole cupful of blood to the grass below. "This is starting to tickle. . . And I thought you samurai were supposed to be tough."

* * *

The hour had just struck ten when Ayako finally looked up to see Kazuya walking back up the hill, casually as ever. With the fire's range only penetrating the darkness by only a few metres she didn't see him until he was already upon them. She and Reizo suddenly stopped their conversation as he strolled into the small clearing without a word and took a seat next to the blaze. Ayako looked around, but with the night hindering her view the girl could see no sign of Shoryu.

"What, did you bury him out there?" Reizo joked.

Kazuya said nothing for a few moments. He fished around in his pack before pulling out a few crackers that they'd bought and helping himself to one. It was only after he finished the last bite that he spoke. "Almost," he said.

Ayako and Reizo exchanged looks of fear as for one terrifying second they suspected he'd actually killed the boy.

"Almost?" Ayako whispered, frightened by his suggestion. "Did he say almost?"

"Hey guys."

As Shoryu's flat monotone broke the silence Ayako breathed a huge sigh of relief. She looked back to the slope to see the faintest outline of him limping his way back into camp, though her fears returned when the light from the fire illuminated his form. Lumps, bruises and nasty looking cuts covered every other inch of his swollen arms and legs. One side of his face had sustained a foul red mark extending from his cheek to his ear, whilst the other side was burdened with an unattended graze. His left eye appeared swollen almost to a shut and a thin slash streaked across his right eyebrow. She cupped a hand to her mouth to suppress a gasp at the boy's horrifying new appearance.

Finally reaching the camp, Shoryu fell to the floor beside Ayako, with the impact of his landing causing another stream of blood to leak from one side of his mouth. Quickly he wiped it away with the already blood-soaked mess of his shirt.

"_Kazuya what the hell?_ You could've killed him!" Ayako protested. The girl got to her feet as only a small sense of remaining reason prevented her from attacking the boy. "You call that training? Look what you did to him!"

Kazuya remained calm. "I was sure not to break anything. He'll make a full recovery."

Shoryu chuckled, exacerbating the pain in his ribs even further. "Yeah thanks for that; that was _really_ considerate of you."

Reizo spoke up. "Kazuya, I know you're supposed to be toughening him up, but don't you think this is a little. . ." the ninja's eyes fell back to the mangled form of the barely conscious Shoryu. "Excessive?"

"Oh, this?" joked Shoryu. With a hiss of pain the boy managed to force himself to sit up. "This is nothing – just a few scrapes. Kazuya, that was an awesome training session right? Same time tomorrow?" he jeered.

Kazuya only scoffed in reply as Ayako turned back to Shoryu. "Don't move around so much, you'll only make it worse," she instructed, crouching down to inspect his mess of a face. "Is there anything I can do?"

Even in spite of sitting before a fire for several hours, Shoryu noted that Ayako's hand delicately examining the gash across his eyebrow was still silky smooth. "I don't suppose you know any medical ninjutsu?"

Ayako bit her lip, silently scolding herself for knowing nothing about healing and taking no notice of the boy's obvious jest. "I don't, no," she said.

"Then it's alright, I'll be fine. Hey Kazuya, you got an icepack?" he joked.

"Stop trying to be funny! This is serious! Look at yourself!" criticised the girl.

"Trying?" Shoryu arched an eyebrow before falling back on his wit once again. He clutched his heart in feign of injury. "Ayako, your words wound me; a hell of a lot more than Kazuya did at any rate."

Kazuya's eyes flashed in irritation at the boy's mockery. "We can always go a second round if you haven't learned your lesson."

"Bring it on tough guy."

"That's enough! Both of you!" Reizo suddenly got to his feet and stood between the two of them, sparing each a look of cold disapproval. "Shoryu, stop provoking him, and Kazuya, stop taking the bait! You're qualified ninja now, so stop behaving like children! I swear you're both as bad as each other!"

As determined as Shoryu was to get the last word he bit his tongue and bowed his head in apology. His sharp tongue was the only weapon he had that could hurt Kazuya, for now at least. Robbing him of an argument subsequently made him feel powerless, but fair was fair; he knew that they were behaving immaturely.

"Can I get a cracker at least? I'm hungry," he said. Just when he thought Kazuya's pose meant he was about to fire a Cryo Blast his way the feather-light form of the hurled cracker packet bounced off his chest. Every movement of his arms was a new sensation of pain from both carrying bags and Kazuya's brutal exercise; though the food at least tasted good, even if the sharp flakes of crackers had little mercy for his swollen and bloodied gums.

Ignoring his denial, Ayako fetched a basic first aid kit from her pack and proceeded to gently place plasters over the cuts lest they became infected. He'd openly asked her not to bother, but since she'd practically begged it of him he found that his will to refuse her had left him. He could be stubborn as a mule with Kazuya, yet with her things were different.

"I can't believe he did this," she muttered as she fixed him up, loud enough so that only Shoryu could hear. "If I'd have known he'd go this far then-"

"It wouldn't have mattered," Shoryu insisted, lamenting his misfortune. "I still would've gone out there, and I'll do it all again tomorrow."

"You're actually carrying on with this? Come on, you're a smart guy, why would you freely choose to do something like that?"

The boy looked up at her, noticing how her new shade of bright orange hair seemed to flicker under the firelight. "It's about pride," he explained. "I'll be damned if I let him get the better of me – that's just what he wants."

"And look where it gets you," she observed. "We'll be feeding you through a tube by the end of the week."

"I'll be fine; it's not as bad as it looks."

The girl let out a sigh of resignation as she realised it was fruitless to talk him out of it. Playfully she punched him lightly on the arm. "Stupid," she called him. "Sometimes I don't get you men. You're as bad as Kazuya with the whole honour thing. Did you even learn anything?"

Shoryu nodded. "Of course: for starters, don't accept training from Kazuya, and secondly, don't piss him off. He hits harder if you do."

"Right, and you seem to have learned those lessons _so _well."

In spite of himself Shoryu couldn't help but chuckle. She had a point after all; he hadn't truly learned anything, but in his simple optimism the boy figured that if his beatings continued he might actually learn to be a little quicker and stronger, eventually.

"We should get some sleep," said Reizo suddenly. "We've got an early start tomorrow. We should be able to reach Hilan in the afternoon."

The group nodded in understanding as Kazuya, Ayako and Reizo got up and made their way to the tent. Reizo turned back to Shoryu.

"You coming?" he quizzed.

Shoryu shook his head. "I'll be there in a minute," he explained.

Reizo placed his first finger and thumb to his chin, debating whether or not to insist that Shoryu got some sleep. The fire then crackled a light shower of sparks as another branch caught the flames, lighting up the boy's sorry state and bringing about another wave of pity from the Jonin. No matter what ordeals he went through, Shoryu seemed to always have a way of bouncing back and persevering, and after going through so much Reizo decided that a small measure of comfort was the least he could offer.

"Just don't take too long," he ordered, striking a compromise. "I don't need you wiped out in the morning."

With that, Reizo retired to the tent, leaving Shoryu out in the darkness, lying away from the fire's smoke with both hands serving as a pillow for his nauseous head.

"Way ahead of you Reizo-sensei," he muttered to himself. For fifteen minutes Shoryu simply led a few paces away from the fire, enjoying the cool breeze that blew south to caress almost sympathetically over his injuries, providing a refreshing cold that Kazuya had denied him. He told himself that the worst part of Kazuya's training was over, and even if it wasn't, he'd meet it head on with a concrete resolve.

Finally the boy got up, stifling a groan of agony with every movement of his beaten bones that cried out for him to lay still. Even so, he knew that sleeping out in the open would only give him more bruises to contend with along with the inevitable bug bites to only worsen his injuries. After one final moment of relaxation in the open wind Shoryu made his way over to the tent and ducked into the main opening.

Their temporary new home was made up of five different compartments: a large one for storage and shelter from the rain and four small pods protruding out for their individual sleeping areas. In the darkness Shoryu found his own and unzipped it, providing a dimly lit though welcoming view of his comfortable sleeping bag. As he made to step inside though, the boy suddenly found his left foot standing on something cold and wet, soaking his sock right through to the skin.

Leaning down for a closer inspection Shoryu picked up the foreign object, realising with a private laugh what it was. In front of his compartment Kazuya had left a single, now melting ice cube in mockery of his previous comment. The boy shook his head and smiled as he got into bed. _Never knew he had a sense of humour_, he thought to himself.

* * *

Within just the first hour of the following day Shoryu reproached himself for thinking that the previous had been difficult. Although the load had been lightened from yesterday's feast, the settled injuries from his battering made not just his arms a pain to endure, but every single joint made a creak of pain with every movement. Any time he stepped off his right leg a pain shot through his thigh, and stepping onto his left made an unpleasant clicking sound from his knee. Walking by itself was a trial without the thirty kilograms of supplies weighing him down; it may not have seemed like much to carry from an outsider, but hauling it without rest for hours at a time was made into agony for the beaten boy.

With nary a word though, Shoryu endured it, just as he had done the previous day. To make even the slightest noise or grimace of pain would mean that Kazuya was getting the better of him.

"You want me to carry some of that?" Ayako interrupted his thoughts as she walked up beside him. Today her hair was a shade of cerulean blue, far brighter in colour than the boy's dull bruises. "You look like you're in pain."

Shoryu laughed and shook his head. "What gave it away? Anyway I'll be alright."

Knowing that he'd hear no more of it, Ayako opted to leave it at that. Reizo had said that he was to carry the most, and Reizo's command was practically law for Shoryu.

The smallest piece of consolation came again for the boy with the wide open planes serving as their road and the gentle gust of wind accompanied them once again. Having never encountered such terrain before, the young ninja quickly took a liking to the rolling fields of plentiful grass and occasional wildlife, deeming this to be his favourite location.

However it wasn't long before the grass thickened into a dense, earthy carpet that squelched underfoot as the group came closer to the village of Hilan. Eventually their path shifted into a salted, gravelly road, something Shoryu was thankful for, however by that time Team Thirteen had entered a whole new locale.

Yet another forest quickly surrounded their route atop six foot banks either side of them, with its fresh pine trees rising high and casting an ominous shadow over their road. Not only was the summer sun lost in the gloom, but the trees blocked out the comfort of the wind and replaced it only by the faint rustling of leaves high above them.

Reizo assured them that this hauntingly dark path would continue only for a mile or so, yet for Shoryu it was a mile too far. The trees twisted in an odd fashion and seemed to keel over the road to create a claustrophobic sensation of a forestry prison. Worst of all, the close humidity increased Shoryu's suffering to the point where every step consumed his entire concentration and required an iron will to continue. No longer could he enjoy the breeze and let his mind wander to distract him from the pain of his injuries; now every movement required his undivided attention.

Before long his breathing slowed into laboured, heaving rasps as sweat soaked his shirt and even doused his hair to flatten the untamed brown tsunami that rested above his prised Cloud ninja headband. Occasionally he noticed Ayako flash him a look of pity out of those sparkling blue eyes of hers, knowing that it would be fruitless to offer her assistance. She worried for his health, and privately he did too.

After walking for a quarter of an hour though, Shoryu noticed something strange. Reizo briskly walked over to Kazuya some six paces ahead of him before the two gradually slowed their walk, eventually retreating back to Ayako and Shoryu.

"Alright," muttered the Jonin. "I need you three to stay calm and keep your voices down. We're being followed," he revealed.

"What?" Shoryu, suddenly freed from his half-awake daze, turned his gaze to the trees for just a single second until Reizo interrupted him.

"_Don't _look," he ordered. "Just keep looking forward whatever you do. Act natural."

"Okay. . ." The boy suddenly fought back the instinct to look around as his heart began to race against his aching chest. Knowing that just looking around could grant him with an early demise was maddening; the feeling of terror rivalled only by his experience in Zakari's genjutsu returned. He clenched his fists if only to stop his hands from shaking. Every breath was another inhale of dread as his stomach seemed to hollow into an empty pit.

"What do we do? . ." The trembling fear in Ayako's voice told the boy that she was on the exact same page as he was. This was supposed to be a C-Rank mission with few risks, a mission that had gone without a single hiccup for a whole decade. Why then, were they being targeted now?

"Just keep your voices down and keep doing as I said. As soon as you see me use a hand sign, I want you to get down, cover yourselves, and no matter what you do, stay put until I say otherwise."

"What if there's an imposter?" asked Shoryu, as quietly as he dared. He knew that any ninja with a half-decent transformation skill could easily impersonate the Jonin's voice.

"The password will be Raikage. If I don't say that, then you have to attack me with everything you've got, because it won't be me. Don't worry though; as long as I'm here no harm will come to you."

Shoryu gulped; the idea of attacking someone who looked just like Reizo-sensei seemed daunting, but he steeled himself just in case it came to that.

"Alright, get ready," said Reizo.

A single minute passed that felt like an eternity for the young ninja. Every instinct told him to suddenly stop and wave his hands around in surrender, though he knew that to do so could easily result in his death. He spared a glance to Ayako, who was fighting to stop herself from shaking as he was, and then to Kazuya, who appeared focused in cool determination.

No words were exchanged, meaning that the only sound came from the shivering of trees in the surrounding forest. Shoryu could've sworn he heard footsteps, though with his paranoia running wild he found it difficult to ascertain whether or not he'd imagined it. A quiet noise then echoed through the trees; a mere whisper that could've easily be mistaken for the rustling of a wayward tree.

But Reizo didn't miss it.

As fast as the very lightning he controlled the ninja whirled around in the blink of an eye as a perfectly aimed shuriken bounced away from the speedily drawn edge of his kunai. Shoryu suddenly found his heart in his throat and his hands curling around the familiar handles of his blades, yet before he could draw Reizo's hand sign ordered him to duck as fast as he could. As footsteps padded faster than the boy's heartbeat from the tree line the Jonin strung together a sequence of five seals and struck the ground hard with both fists.

"_Earth Style! Rock Dome Jutsu!_"

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Dayyyum – really pleased with how this one turned out, especially after I wasn't totally happy with the last.

Oh and also, to those who have ever seen Fight Club, I kind of had the scene where Tyler Durden gets beaten up by the club owner in mind when I wrote the whole 'training' section. Just thought you should know :)

So yeah, in case it wasn't obvious, fight scene next time along with a huge plot twist! Stay tuned for chapter ten!


	10. Chapter 10 Mission Complete!

Chapter 10: Mission Complete!

Joining Shoryu on the ground, both Ayako and Kazuya both dropped to the floor as a hemispherical dome suddenly sprouted up from the earth itself and encased the trio in a solid wall of metre-thick rock. As total darkness quickly found the teens, Shoryu and Kazuya were oblivious to the quick series of hand signs Ayako swiftly pulled off until a vivid shade of red found her palms.

The girl painted the floor at their centre with a circle of maroon before clapping her hands to light up the slow-burning firework – the same technique she'd used to fool Kazuya.

"Sensei!" Shoryu's fist hit the solid wall. Pressing his ear up against it, the boy could faintly hear the distant clash of steel as Reizo fought outside. "Sensei!"

"Save your energy," muttered Ayako. "He put us inside here to protect us from whatever is out there. We're inexperienced Genin so there isn't much we can do."

"That doesn't mean we can just sit around here and do nothing – we have to help him out!" insisted Shoryu. As much as his every instinct told him to stay put and let Reizo handle everything he still felt compelled to assist his teacher.

Kazuya nodded and drew his sword. "For once I agree," he said.

* * *

With just a simple flick of his wrist Reizo's extendable spear had been drawn and flared out to full size in order to match the oncoming slash of an enemy ninja leaping from the trees at full speed. Gracefully he spun the knife from the hands of his foe and pivoted into a lunge as both his eyes the markings on his arms warped to an electric blue surge. Reizo drove the full length of his spear through the ninja's heart, coating his metallic pole in a crimson finish of blood before the being exploded in a puff of smoke.

_Shadow Clones? _He wondered to himself. _But clones don't bleed like that – I could've sworn he was a real person._ The Jonin's thoughts were then interrupted by a second ninja, this one leaner and fairer of hair, rushing him for a sneak attack from behind. Turning to meet his foe with a fistful of electricity, Reizo blasted the man with over a thousand volts, frying him to a crisp before he too erupted in a burst of smoke.

_He was a clone too? _

Having finally acquired a moment, Reizo used his time to scan the area and count the amount of enemies. Whilst he'd been dealing with the first two, another dozen had poured out onto the road before him. They made no move to attack him immediately, so Reizo stopped to memorise their faces and body types to see what exactly was going on. Though most of their faces were obscured by scarves and masks, he could tell in a heartbeat that each of them were different people. The most interesting feature however was the headbands each of them wore: the symbol of the Village Hidden in the Stone.

_So are these all clones as well? If so then there must be a whole squadron lurking in the forest; but then again it's improbable that a whole group would know a technique like Shadow Clones. Just what's going on here? Am I under genjutsu? No – I would've felt it._

One of the ninja stepped forward, a larger man garbed in a full set of body armour. "Reizo of the Zawa clan; Jonin of the Village Hidden in the Clouds," he presumed.

"Well if you're after an autograph then this is a pretty poor way to ask me," joked the man.

"Hn." The enemy leader grinned. "Funny. But you are outnumbered here; just give us what we came for and you may leave with your life and the lives of your students. We wish to avoid any more fatalities – just give us the egg and you may go free."

_What? _Reizo managed to hide a look of shock thanks to his wildly jolting eyes preventing any display of emotion. _They're after that old thing? But this mission is a joke isn't it? Could that thing actually be real? Whether it is or not, they at least seem to think it is. But what did he mean by fatalities? I only took out a pair of clones._

"That's an interesting proposition, I'll admit," Reizo finally answered, twirling around the spear absently with his fingers. "But allow me to make a counter." With that, the Jonin suddenly raised his free hand, mimicking the shape of a gun using his thumb and first finger. Concentrated lightning flowed to the very tip of his finger, and after cracking for a few seconds Reizo let off a deadly variant of his Lightning Javelin technique.

As fast as any bullet, Reizo's jet of thunder bridged the gap between the two instantly, piercing a perfect hole right between the eyes of the leading ninja. If he'd been a real person he would've felt the instant shock of an electric chair race through his nervous system in the moment before he died, but since he simply blew into a puff of smoke, Reizo doubted that he did.

_That settles it – they all must be clones._ He told himself. For a few moments the squadron stared blankly at the spot where their leader had fallen before suddenly rushing in to attack the man, who stood poised and ready to take on a whole force by himself. Swiftly Reizo spun from his right foot at the sight of a rogue ninja sprinting towards him. He met the clone with only the haft of his spear, connecting straight with the man's forehead to make him flip backwards to the floor. Reizo then ducked from an incoming blast of wind and flurried his spear, both to bat away a pair of incoming shuriken and lead his attack into a violent lunge for a second incoming ninja's gut.

"_Earth Style! Quake Jutsu!_" cried a voice.

Knowing that the implications of such a technique were hardly pleasant, Reizo quickly fell backwards into a series of handsprings and jumps as the ground where he'd stood cracked like a pane of broken glass before separating into a hectic labyrinth of ravines in the earth. Retreating further down the road to avoid it, the Jonin fell back into stance and executed another five hand signs after deflecting a wave of projectiles.

"_Earth Style! Stone Grid Jutsu!_"

Just as before, Reizo struck the ground hard with a single fist to finalise his technique, prompting a wall to rise up from the earth before him, containing tiny, eye-sized holes in its surface that he could peer through. It provided the perfect cover, and at the same time he could observe the enemies' location and make enough time to create a suitable strategy.

Reizo resisted the urge to flinch as a jet of water from the enemy squadron blasted into the wall just a few inches left of his peephole. He'd learned long ago that a good ninja had to constantly be aware of his surroundings, and so he took a few seconds to get a good look. The road south stretched out beyond his jutsu, broken by the countless gaps from the Quake Jutsu that had ravaged it. Five ninja rapidly traversed the ten metres of perilous road, whereas the remaining five stood waiting at the other side, where his Rock Dome Jutsu safely encased the three students; for now at least.

He knew there was no guarantee they wouldn't try and attack Shoryu, Kazuya and Ayako, yet it was in working out exactly how to get back across that Reizo noticed something. Unlike the first two clones he'd taken out, the second two remained intact. He'd whacked one of them as hard as he could with the pole of his Raikyogan-enhanced spear; the other had been stabbed by it through the stomach. Why hadn't they disappeared?

_So are they clones or not?_ Reizo asked himself. _Shadow Clones go down if you hit them with a decent amount of power, so why haven't they vanished yet? They just look like injured men. Did they mix in Shadow Clones with regular ninja? The first two vanished, but I hit both of them with a killing blow. . . Unless. . ._

From the safe cover of his six foot wall Reizo suddenly popped out and aimed a handful of controlled lightning at his first victim – the man he'd knocked out with just a single hit to the head.

"_Lightning Javelin!_" he cried out. He stayed out of cover long enough to see his attack hit; he had to know exactly what was going on. The body of the unconscious man was suddenly ravaged by Reizo's high-voltage javelin searing into his flesh and overloading his body's nervous system, an attack that would be fatal. Much to Reizo's confusion though, instead of burning to a crisp, the ninja vanished in an explosion of smoke.

_What's this? It's like I thought – they're all Shadow Clones, but they're different; I have to actually kill them to get them out of the way, but how? I've never heard of anything like that before - that kind of technique would be an A or even an S-Rank jutsu; how could fourteen different people learn it?_

It was only thanks to Reizo's wild hypothesising that he didn't notice one of the ninja had crossed the entirety of the quake-ravaged path, and with four hand signs executed the rogue launched a jutsu his way.

"_Water Style! Hydro Cannon Jutsu!_" he cried.

As fast as Reizo tried to get back behind his makeshift wall of cover, he simply didn't notice the enemy fast enough to dodge. A vast torrent of water streamed from the palms of the Hidden Stone ninja, knocking the Jonin right off his feet and propelling him fast into a great elm tree just off the road.

Uttering a low groan of pain, Reizo opened his eyes again just in time to roll hard to his right and back to his feet as a kunai knife suddenly skewered the tree he'd been slumped against. His back had sustained a number of cuts from the tree and his sternum ached from the high velocity shot of the waterfall that had been sent his way. Of course, scrapes and bruises were the least of his concerns now.

He knew that it was no coincidence that a water style user had led the assault; these beings, whatever they were, had known Reizo's name, rank and clan when they appeared. As such, it was equally plausible that they knew exactly what techniques would cripple him: Water.

As he'd preached to Zakari just a few months prior, Raikyogan users would only harm themselves if they tried to use their Kekkei Genkai during aquatic combat or in the rain. That little jutsu had drenched him to the bone; if he tried to manifest his bioelectricity in such a condition he'd shock himself with every single volt of his attack. But of course he'd also taught Zakari that due to such a weakness, relying too heavily on the Raikyogan was a fatal mistake.

From the tree to his left another Hidden Stone ninja suddenly dropped down, knife in hand and ready to strike. Yet before he'd even attacked Reizo had noticed him. He turned his palms to the sky, with his swift five hand signs granting him with a fierce white flame that cooked both the ninja and the tree from which he'd leapt.

"_Fire Style: White Blaze Stream!_"

The tiny little flicker he'd used to light the fire expanded into an enormous flamethrower that Reizo was thankful he'd never been on the receiving end of. After he'd torched the first ninja though, he kept the stream going and he jerked to the left just in time to catch another in the blaze. Leaving behind just two puffs of smoke, Reizo made his way back towards the road, hoping desperately that he could reach his endangered students in time as he repelled more attackers.

* * *

After a third attempt at smashing down Reizo's technique only wasted more chakra, Shoryu instead took to pressing his ear up against it to see what exactly he could hear. He heard the cries of various different styles of jutsu being called out and the clash of steel on steel, though after listening for just a few seconds the connotations of one such technique spelled trouble.

"_Earth Style: Burrowing Justu!"_ he heard through the stone. He wasn't sure whether the following sound of rumbling and the sensation of movement under his feet was real or just paranoia. Regardless, his indecision still didn't stop him from alerting the others.

"Ayako! Kazuya!" he cried. "I think we've got comp-"

The crash as a Hidden Stone ninja sprang up from the ground interrupted Shoryu's warning, his form casting a dark shadow across the boy from obstructing Ayako's roman candle. Kazuya drew his weapon without the faintest trace of hesitation, though the enemy ninja's target was the first person he'd seen: Ayako.

In a frantic rush the burrower ninja dashed straight for the frightened girl, determined to eliminate the one he perceived as the weakest first. Shoryu, however, already had everything covered. Seeing the girl in danger suddenly forced him to cast aside all fear and hesitation, as without even considering his options the boy's hand retreated behind his back and flared out one of his windmill shuriken.

Using all the power he could muster Shoryu threw it right as the enemy ninja conjured up a strange jutsu; his right hand, ready to throw a single punch at the girl, was suddenly covered in a thick glove of solid rock. He swung down with an attack that had the potential to kill the poor girl, though Shoryu's shuriken reached him first. The four-pointed star dug into the back of the man's leg in a shower of red haze, crippling his movement and forcing him down onto one knee.

"Kazuya!" Shoryu cried.

"I'm on it!" Kazuya, knowing exactly what Shoryu had planned, raced over to their foe and slammed a vicious kick straight into his expression of agony. As the ninja doubled backwards his hands found a pouch for his tools and in the blink of an eye three shuriken had been sent Kazuya's way. With a bounce backwards and a single spin of his sword the persistent samurai batted them as if they were no more than pesky gnats. Satisfied that his opponent could see his face, Kazuya sheathed his weapon, eased into a trio of hand signs and pointed his left hand right at the Hidden Stone ninja.

"_Ice Style: Cryo Blast Jutsu!_" he announced. That same shattering, scraping noise of ice that Shoryu hated suddenly echoed around the dome as Kazuya's attack blasted away, freezing his opponent in a solid block of ice. Ayako then shaded a small quantity of blue from the scroll behind her left leg. She'd seen the bravery of the two boys and was determined to be a part of it.

A clap of her hands was all it took to ignite the primary colour, and after placing her hand flat on the man's frozen prison the ice immediately shattered as she impaled the man through the skull with one of her javelins. Taking the life of another human being was not something she'd intended to do, but in her fear her aim faltered; even so, it was kill or be killed.

Despite knowing this, Ayako couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when the scattered fragments of ice gave way to an explosion of smoke. But where she was relieved, Shoryu only looked confused.

"Thank god," said Ayako. "It's just a Shadow Clone."

Shoryu walked over to the site of the clone's demise and inspected the ground. Blood that had been smeared across the road beneath them had not vanished, and all that remained of him was Shoryu's shuriken that clattered to the floor. He picked it up, wiped off the blood and reattached it to his belt. "That doesn't make sense," he said at last.

Ayako looked confused. "Huh? What doesn't make sense?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, I was led to believe that your Shadow Clones will vanish with just one powerful shot," Kazuya offered.

Shoryu nodded. "Right. This one sustained my shuriken to his leg, and even after that he still remained present after you kicked him and froze him."

"You're saying this wasn't a regular clone," presumed the samurai.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying – whoever our real enemy is, they've found some way to give Shadow Clones more power. They're no weakling, that's for sure."

Ayako took a few moments to scold herself for being so dense. Had she not been fearing for her life she knew that it wouldn't be difficult to spot what Shoryu had, though her survival instincts had taken over; for those brief few seconds she'd cared only about living and taken nothing else into account. Apparently cowering in fear had been the best way to accomplish that. At any rate, once again she felt eager to fit in.

"If that's the case then we can't stick around here for much longer," she said. "We're vulnerable in here; if one of the clones can burrow under the ground then it's safe to assume that they all can – in here we're trapped and cornered."

Kazuya spoke. "That sounds good in theory, but everything we've tried so far hasn't worked against this wall."

"Actually, I have an idea. If you'd hear it," said Shoryu. He looked to Kazuya, who he was certain would reject any plan he could come up with. Surprisingly, the young samurai nodded as a signal for him to continue, so he did. "Everything we tried so far has been individual – we've just tried to blow apart different sections of this wall by ourselves. But we worked pretty well as a team in taking down that ninja, so I say we try the same thing here."

"What do you propose?" asked Kazuya, clear impatience in his tone.

"This wall is made of stone right? So Kazuya, if you start by freezing one part of it, then it should blow up fairly if Ayako blasts one of her reds at it. After that I'll use the Wind Slash to loosen the rocks even further and chip away at all the leftover stones. It might take us a few repetitions to get all the way through, but it should work if we stick at it."

* * *

The moment Reizo landed back on his dome's side of the road he checked his surroundings. Seeing one his opponents trying to cross back across the mismatched sequence of ravines created by his teammates was too good an opportunity to resist. Reizo lobbed a single kunai knife as hard as he could, striking the man straight in the chest and forcing him right off the labyrinth of breaks in the earth. He fell down one of the bottomless pits, with only a vent of smoke to signify his demise.

Hearing a noise behind him, the Jonin ducked and spun into low block from the sword of another opponent, and after a flurry of attacks Reizo drove the jagged end of his spear right into right into the neck of the Stone ninja.

"_Fire Style: Heat Seeker Jutsu!_" cried a second voice.

A graceful backflip from Reizo allowed him to evade the streaming ball of fire that scorched the ground where he'd once stood. But he'd seen this particular jutsu before – it wasn't over yet. As the fireball changed course and raced back towards him, Reizo made for the trees. Jumping from branch to branch and ascending higher was normally a good way to lose this kind of technique. Around here though, the branches were so thin and dead that instead of halting its attack, the Heat Seeker Jutsu simply ploughed through its obstacles and sent flaming bundles of wood spinning to the ground.

The hiss of flaming bark whizzed past his side as Reizo doubled back on himself and ran in a straight line down the entire length of the tree. With the fireball singeing his heels the feeling of vertigo was enhanced. He ran at full speed towards the ground, casting a new sequence of hand signs in an order he'd not used in years. After leaping off the tree the Jonin altered his centre of gravity, hitting the ground on both feet and carrying on his run towards the Heat Seeker's original owner.

The Hidden Stone ninja prepared to dodge from the flight path of his own jutsu with Reizo speeding towards him, though with the Jonin's final hand sign and a flash of yellow light his body suddenly stiffened into a concrete board.

"_Lighting Style:_" cried Reizo. "_Paralysis!_"

True to its word, the jutsu totally cut off all conscious access to his nervous system. He froze, unable to twitch or even blink in his state of stillness. Crooning his neck to get a better look below him as Reizo skidded smoothly between his legs was impossible, as was raising his arms to shield himself from the blast as his own fireball met his body.

"_Wind Style: Air Slash Stream!_"

Along with the heated explosion and a puff of smoke from the clone, to Reizo's horror he also heard Shoryu's voice echo from the Rock Dome as the trio blew their way out of his jutsu. He got back to his feet opened his mouth to shout for them, though the only sound that escaped was a sudden bark of pain.

A single kunai had struck his left heel, digging sharply into the tendons behind his foot and distracting him from the fact that its thrower had leapt out of the forest towards him. Two more dagger slashes across his both sides of his chest forced his attention back to his front, where the enemy ninja had not actually intended to wound him, only to cut the straps from the bag slung over his shoulders.

Before the Jonin even had time to throw a punch the slinky ninja had ducked around to his blindside and snatched the bag away. Like a coward he ran, though he wouldn't get very far. Fighting past the pain Reizo strung together a sequence of hand signs before realising that he wouldn't need to finish; his students already had it covered. In his folly the Hidden Stone ninja had ran from Reizo and straight into the path of the three academy graduates.

"_Cryo Blast Jutsu!_"

"_Red!_"

Shoryu was the only one who didn't fire off an attack; he'd emerged first from their cavernous prison, and as such he'd been the only one who'd seen what the rogue ninja had stolen: Reizo's pack contained the egg. He pushed past both comrades as their attacks streamed by him.

The enemy swerved to avoid a freezing from Kazuya's attack, though Ayako's simple firecracker struck him hard in the chest. He toppled backwards, the force of the explosion making him lose his grip on his precious cargo as he fell to his back. Almost thirty feet through the air the bag soared in spinning free fall whilst Shoryu bombed as fast as his legs would carry him towards it. Realising quickly that he wouldn't reach it in time meant that Shoryu had push his mind to the limits, thinking fast to come up with a way of softening the bag's impact. Five hand signs later and he had his answer.

"_Wind Style: Galeforce Jutsu!_"

Unlike the boy himself, Shoryu's miniature tornado was hardly restricted by the confines of normal human speed. It zipped across the broken road under his control, travelling at speeds he'd never pushed it to before. As the bag began to fall faster he upped its speed yet again, until finally he had the small cyclone spinning right underneath the plummeting bag, reaching it just in time to trap the satchel within its vortex and prevent it from hitting the ground.

The bag spun harmlessly, riding atop the whirlwind until Shoryu approached and plucked it away. As he disengaged the chakra-draining technique the boy opened the pack and retrieved the egg from its main pocket. Thankfully it had not sustained a single crack, though Shoryu figured the situation would be different had he not acted.

"We're all good sensei; the egg is fine!" he called over.

"Right! Come back here though, there's still one m-" Halfway through a sentence Reizo suddenly paused. He flourished his spear into the pose of a javelin, and without a single word of warning he threw the mighty weapon using all his strength towards Shoryu. The boy watched, stricken with fear as the spear headed towards him, though when he was sure his death was imminent the spear instead sailed right by him, soaring over his shoulder to impale a rouge ninja who'd emerged from the trees, preparing to get the drop on Shoryu. The boy hadn't seen any flicker or heard any whisper of him approaching, but Reizo had.

"One more," he finished.

As the four regrouped Reizo ordered them to keep their guard up whilst he got to interrogation. One of these strange clones was still left alive – the one he'd speared through the gut who now lay squirming on the ground coughing up blood. If he didn't know any better the Jonin would've guessed he'd never seen combat before in his life. He grabbed the ninja's collar, and using two fingers he pushed deep into the wound he'd given the man, gaining a cry.

"Who are you? What is this jutsu you all possess and why do you want this egg? Speak quickly Stone ninja; you've risked war already by attacking us within our own jurisdiction. If you value peace then I suggest you come up with a suitable explanation fast."

Even as he spoke Reizo knew his words would do no good. The clone's original creator would no doubt be receiving this information – if he didn't want to answer anything the ninja need only disengage the jutsu to make the clone vanish in smoke. Curiously though, he didn't.

"I'm under orders," answered the clone.

"Orders from who? The Tsuchikage?" Reizo demanded.

"Who else would it be?"

"The tenth Tsuchikage is a man of peace and honour; I've met him before, so I find it hard to believe that he would order such an unwarranted assassination on our squad without provocation. I hate to break it to you but that egg is a joke, and if the Tsuchikage wanted it for something all he need do is ask."

"Believe what you want," spat the man. "But for now it's time for me to go." To the toolkit strapped to his belt the clone shakily lowered a hand. He took a last look around the forest, as though they were the last moments of his life, until something caught his eye. His gaze fell to Shoryu, who merely regarded him with a look of barely collected apprehension. For a while his eyes lingered as the group turned to him, though it was only after a few moments that the boy realised the ninja was not staring at him, but rather his jacket. Specifically, the sigil stitched to its chest pocket.

He looked down at the brand and then back to the man, who merely grinned and drew a single kunai. Before Reizo could stop him the man took the knife to his own throat, spilling out a river of blood before dissipating into smoke. Close to a minute passed before any spoke a word, and thankfully it was the group's leader.

"I won't pretend I know what the hell just happened," he said. Hardly reassuring, Shoryu thought. "But keep your guard up – those were clones; if I didn't know any better I'd say their creators were somewhere nearby. . . But there's no trace of them."

"I'm no Jonin, and I've never been the expert on clones," answered Shoryu. "But even I know that it seems unlikely that more than a dozen ninja would possess a technique so powerful that their clones defy nature in such a way. It doesn't make sense."

Reizo considered, and then said, "None of this does: the clones are just one part of it but there's more; why would the Tsuchikage order an attack on us, especially for something so ridiculous in the first place? I know the man, why would he risk open war?"

"Just because you know him it doesn't mean we can clear him of suspicion. They were his men after all," answered Kazuya bluntly. He had a point after all, but they were still far from answering the most puzzling question.

Reizo sighed. "Of course, you're right Kazuya," he admitted. "But even so, these clones disturb me. How could fourteen Hidden Stone Chunin master a technique I've never even heard of?"

"Maybe they all came from the same person," offered Shoryu. He was pale now, sweating from his arduous trials of the still-young day and speaking through heavy breaths. Even so, he was determined to make his point before he passed out and forgot it. "I know that clones normally take on the form of their creator – they're clones after all – but with a technique so powerful it doesn't seem like a stretch to imagine that their creator could alter their appearance to however he wanted."

Reizo nodded as Ayako fumbled for the right words. They'd all seen it, but putting it into a speech was difficult to manage without sounding ridiculous. "And did you see them?" she began. "I know it sounds crazy, but those clones seemed. . . Sentient – human even; they didn't act like puppeteers seeing through the eyes of their clones, they seemed like real people. That last one seemed genuinely scared of his suicide, which even in itself makes no sense: why would a clone take a knife to its neck when its user could just disengage the jutsu?"

"Exactly," said Reizo. "And I did enough research on the history of that egg to know it's a fake. Regardless, it's safe to assume that they didn't know that, and that it was a high priority for them. . . Which means we should pull out; this mission is too dangerous for you Genin-"

Reizo's words were suddenly stumped by the sound of a body hitting the floor; Shoryu's in fact. The boy had walked for miles carrying both heavy loads and the scars of Kazuya's 'training', after which he'd been forced to repeat a jutsu that worked him to dangerously low levels of chakra and then push it further again by rescuing the egg. As much as his conscious mind forced him to put on a brave face and slug through whatever tasks were thrown at him, his body was something beyond his control.

Sustaining another bruise to his side, Shoryu collapsed in the middle of the road, completely unconscious and oblivious to the outside world as he eased into a well-deserved slumber.

* * *

Time and space passed as a blur for the boy. Oftentimes his eyes blinked open for a second and he caught a glimpse of cautious boots treading over stone ground before he fell to sleep again. Exactly how long he'd been out Shoryu had no idea. By his own count he must've slipped in and out of consciousness at least five times, and on each occasion the ground's texture and lighting from the sun differed. His head remained an achy blur that prevented him from forming any coherent thought as the stars of his mind swirled.

He heard voices a few times; Ayako and Reizo's. They seemed faraway, as if just a few metres behind them. It was in finally recognising this that Shoryu's brain clicked back into place as he realised just what was happening. He was slung over someone's shoulder and being hauled across country like a sack of meat. The boots he'd seen from before, hypnotising him with their rhythmic thuds, they belonged to Kazuya.

"Bet you get a kick out of this don't you. . ." Eventually he managed to form words.

Kazuya groaned. "You've just woken up and you're already annoying me."

Shoryu ignored him and continued, staring intently at the samurai's boots as they swayed like a pendulum beneath him. "What is this, some kind of apology? You feeling guilty or something?"

"Oh _shut up_," Kazuya said. Weariness and irritation were in his tone, though surprisingly there was little malice. "You're too heavy for Ayako and she's supporting Reizo-sensei anyway. If I had it my way we would've left you on that road."

"Well you don't need to be troubled any further, you can let me down now – I can walk," answered Shoryu.

"Are you sure?" Kazuya checked.

"Ooh, did I sense sympathy there?"

Shoryu's answer for his taunt was a sudden lurch as Kazuya dropped him to the ground without warning. Fortunately he was prepared for such a violent reply and so managed to land on all fours. Fumbling wildly in his pockets, the boy finally found his water bottle. He clung tightly to it as he guzzled its entirety. To him it tasted of liquid gold; of heaven's fountains that knew no limits to its sweetness. Never had any drink tasted so good, and water most of all was hardly ever considered divine.

"Hey, you're finally awake," said Reizo.

Shoryu didn't answer right away. He let the water from his flask fill up his gut. Feeling the water swill around inside his stomach made the boy queasy, though it was a small price to pay for the heaven that greeted his mouth, previously dry as the Kazekage's sandal. Squeezing out the last few drops, Shoryu eventually turned his look to Reizo. As Kazuya had said, one of his arms was over Ayako's shoulders to support his walk without a crutch. He'd taken a kunai knife to his Achilles heel during the battle, meaning his walking would be stunted for the next few days.

"Feeling much better now Reizo-sensei!" Shoryu cried.

"Good," he replied, before turning to Ayako. "It's alright now, I think I can manage from here by myself," he said. With that, the man removed his arm from around the girl's shoulder and slowly put pressure on his ankle before walking an odd limp to the head of the pack.

As Shoryu dropped back his pace to the girl he finally took note of his surroundings. He'd collapsed on a dirt road in the middle of a forest, though now he was somewhere else entirely. Fields of boulders and jagged canyons spanned out for as far as he could see, marred only by the sight of a simple town some two miles behind them. Ravens nestled in the basins of the craggy planes and a whole manner of lizards and amphibians that thrived in this area's frequent rain could be seen if he looked hard enough. Thankfully there was no rain today, only the summer glow of the bright orange sunset spilling its light across the cliffs.

He was certain he'd never been here before; another location to add to his list of places he'd visited. Though he wondered where exactly he was. It didn't make sense; he thought they were going back to the Village, why then did a town he suspected was Hilan appear behind them?

"Ayako," he began, falling in step beside her. "I may be a little hazy on this, but before I blacked out I distinctly remember Reizo saying something about this mission being too dangerous for us and that we should turn back. We're still going north aren't we?"

Ayako giggled to herself. "Yeah. Kazuya and I managed to convince him to keep going."

"Really?" Shoryu cocked an eyebrow. "How'd you manage that? He seemed really insistent on heading back to the Village."

She laughed again; Shoryu took note of how sweet she looked when she did. "You should have seen it Shoryu, it was hilarious: we sat there for about twenty minutes trying to convince him to carry on but he wouldn't have it. Then we reminded him about his perfect record and how it would be ruined forever if he failed this mission."

Shoryu shared her laugh. It was a sneaky idea; there were few things Reizo cared more for than his record. He could see the look of terror on his sensei's face within his mind's eye already. "That's genius."

"Mhm." She grinned devilishly. "I may have also implied that his chances of becoming the Raikage might be lowered."

"Heh, that's just cruel. But thanks. Anyway what about those clones?"

"Well Reizo told us to stay close and be on alert at all times, but it's not exactly easy to ambush us out here in the open like this. At any rate they're after the egg, not us, and we'll reach the drop point in about an hour so, so if anything happens to it after that then it's not on us – the mission was just to transport it."

"Yeah I guess you're right," said Shoryu.

After his euphoric drink of water and a light snack as they walked, Shoryu's strength was replenished completely. Within just a few minutes he felt good enough to take back his virtual tonne of supplies from Reizo.

He learned from Ayako as they walked that he'd been out cold for about six hours and that there was still no sign of another clone squadron. They'd also bypassed the village of Hilan completely for fear of being ambushed again and continued north across the Land of Lightning towards the designated location.

Shoryu couldn't help but feel a wave of pity towards his superior. Reizo walked with a forced limp, his damaged Achilles heel preventing him from lying his foot down flat with every step he took. It was only then that he realised the enormous difference in strength between the ranks of the ninja. The three Genin had managed to take down just one of the clones through teamwork, though Reizo had tackled thirteen more single-handedly.

Even with his wound taking up his concentration, the Jonin still stopped and checked his surroundings at the slightest noise. He clearly felt guilty for endangering his students more than he had to, and to make up for it he'd protect them with his life. Every hooting of an owl or the scuttling of a lost reptile was enough to set him back on edge.

Finally though, the group reached the drop point. They'd seen the beacon, a blinking red light from far away, though it was only upon reaching it that the Genin realised where it was. Before them a sharp, vertical cliff of beige obstructed their path. Thirty metres up the climb a deep alcove was punched through the solid wall, where the flashing light remained at the entrance of the small cave. Here lay the problem.

"When I last came here, my group's leader was the one who went up there," Reizo said.

"But you can't exactly walk up there with that ankle," presumed Kazuya. "So one of us has to climb up there."

"Exactly. . . Damn it, I knew I should have taught you how to climb trees before the stream technique."

Shoryu looked up at the cliff like weighing up a challenger. It was steeper and there were fewer footholds than his usual hideout, but it was still nothing he couldn't handle. The low lighting here that cloaked the cliff in shadow would do him no favours. On the other hand, he knew he'd climbed worse at darker hours. After filling himself with confidence the boy volunteered.

"I'll do it," he said.

"Shoryu no," Ayako insisted. "It's way too steep and you're not fully recovered yet."

"I'm fine!" Shoryu swung his arms in a circle to show his fitness and mobility, ignoring the stabbing pain from one of his shoulder bruises. "Sensei, you've seen that place above my home right? I can climb this thing no problem at all, and I need to make up for lost time. Kazuya's been carrying me for the last six hours and Ayako's been supporting you. I know I can do this!"

"Hmm," Reizo considered thoughtfully. For a few moments he seriously debated whether or not to go up there himself before the wound in his heel bit into him from another misstep. "Shoryu _does _seem the most qualified. . . Alright then." The Jonin removed the pack and handed it to the boy. "Just be careful; if it's too difficult then come straight back down."

Shoryu lied. "Sure thing!" No matter how hard it would be Shoryu refused to be beaten by some stupid stone wall, not after the embarrassment of collapsing still hung over him. Slinging the pack over both shoulders, the boy placed a solid grip on the first rock and began to climb.

In spite of his stubbornness though, Shoryu was still cautious. He took every step into consideration as he swung from rock to rock. He could feel three pairs of eyes, boring into his back and watching with intent worry as he climbed; two of them anyway. Being covered in a thin layer of sandy dust meant that these rocks were far more slippery than his den back home; three times he grabbed a rock with his free hand only to realise that it using it for support was a bad idea and then moving on to a different stone.

The aches in his wrists, chest and shoulders did their worst to him as he supported his weight; this would've been far easier if he hadn't been beaten to a pulp the previous night and collapsed out of exhaustion earlier, but still he persevered, telling himself that a ninja must endure no matter the hardship.

Seeing the opening not far above him spurred Shoryu on. He grabbed for an outcropping rock and made a swing from it for the nearest foothold, though it was only in his moment of triumph that disaster struck. The rock he'd reached for cracked under his weight, pitching him into a gut-wrenching sudden free fall at twenty five metres.

The boy began to plummet along with his confidence, desperately running his hands against the rocks as a cry from Ayako sounded beneath him. Wildly he groped for an opening, but after the sudden fall such a treat was denied in favour of bloodied fingers until finally the cliff showed him mercy. His right hand found a solid rock that he clung to for dear life as he lurched in whiplash, his shoulder nearly pulling free of its socket. A stray shuriken fell from his belt and clattered to the ground and he watched after it with a heart-pounding sigh, knowing it could've easily been him.

"Shoryu come down! It's not safe!" He heard Ayako cry.

"It's alright! Just a little slip!" he replied, though the damage had already been done. He'd fallen the height of a bungalow in that 'little slip' and his hands had paid the price. His fingertips were a bloody mess that had painted ten lines of red across the cliff. He'd effectively cheese-grated them along the wall in trying to catch a rock. They'd take longer to heal than Kazuya's bruises; maybe a couple of months or even more, but the real trouble was in the climbing.

Every rock he grasped was now torture. The sharp edges dug further into his wounds and the sand served as painful as disinfectant without any of the remedial uses. _This is nothing_, he told himself, continuing to climb with complete disregard for his own safety. After another minute he'd ascended past the pattern of blood he'd left on the wall, cautiously watching for those loose rocks as he climbed higher and higher, until finally he pushed himself into the opening.

Shoryu took a few moments to lie down and catch his breath before surveying his injuries, hissing and wincing in pain as he noticed that he'd lost four fingernails to his accident.

"Alright! Take as much time as you need up there!" Reizo called up to him. "Just drop off the egg and then we're home free!"

Weakly Shoryu nodded as he finally took in his surroundings. The alcove was deeper than he'd first perceived, extending at least fifteen paces into the heart of the cliff on a downhill slope. The place was the same shade of beige as everything else in this forsaken canyon, though two objects stuck out to him. The first was the beacon, a simple pillar of flashing red right that had guided them to this location. The second was a cushion at the cave's end, velvet coated and purple with little golden tassels dangling from each corner.

It seemed fairly obvious that he was supposed to place the egg on this pillow, and so Shoryu fumbled around inside his back for it before making his way over. He gave the thing one last look to check for damage before placing it ever so gently on the purple cushion, satisfied that his work was done.

"You were more trouble than you're worth," he muttered to himself.

And with that, he turned and headed back for the cliff's opening.

After only a few steps though, something caught his attention. A sound reverberated from the walls of the hollow cavern; a snapping sound as though he'd stepped on slate. He looked down to see nothing underfoot, and to his confusion the noise continued, cracking and splintering its way around the cave, followed by a sticky sound; a noise that sounded like extracting tree sap.

A second or two later the cogs of his mind turned into place. Slowly as he dared Shoryu turned back to the egg, only to see that cracks had spread like circuitry across the shell and its tip had been removed completely with a discharge of embryotic fluid. He could do nothing but watch in horrified fascination as a small, upright reptilian pushed itself free, yawning in a pitched cry that sounded like no animal he'd encountered before.

He was a stout little being, standing at just barely a foot in height and comprised of light blue scales with the exception of a soft yellow underbelly. Innocent, dark eyes blinked across the room in curiosity, leading down to an elongated mouth made up of tiny, razor sharp teeth. Three short claws grew from each limb, two straight horns extended from the back of his skull, and as he turned around Shoryu glimpsed a pair of tiny wings that only reached halfway down to its spiny tail.

The creature bowed down onto all fours, and after a series of choking gasps he coughed up a small jet of flame, barely enough to light a pipe. Finally those newborn, curious eyes turned to Shoryu. He stood back up and let out a noise.

"_Wharrk!_"

In all this time Shoryu hadn't spoken, moved or breathed. He steeled himself for an attack as the slime-covered creature plodded over to him, though it only stopped at his feet, looking up past his knees and letting out another high pitched cry.

"_Chaga! . . Rrwar! . . Cheg-_" he stopped again suddenly to cough up another smoky exhale of fire before looking up affectionately at the boy once again.

"You've _got _to be kidding me," said Shoryu.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hey guys. Just wanted to start off by saying that a drawing of Ayako is up on my profile, so check it out if you get a minute - it's probably the best of the three so far. I've never _actually _drawn a girl before so it was pretty challenging, especially when most of the stuff I did previously was of Dragon Ball Z, where the characters have physiques so enormously huge.

That was the longest chapter yet I believe. On second thoughts I should've split it into two but I did promise you guys that little twist at the end (Well, it wasn't that much of a twist, how many of you didn't see THAT coming). Anyway it's probably better this way. So yeah, there is now a baby dragon in Legacies. Who doesn't love dragons? I still haven't thought up of a name for him yet, but there's something I'd just like to ask you guys so here goes:

Alright, so many of the creatures in Naruto are capable of human speech. Since the dragon is a baby at this point he's not going to be reading Shakespeare and quoting Franklin any time soon, but what I want to know is whether or not you think that he should _one day _be capable of speech. Some of you guys might remember that chapter one also started with 'Volume One', meaning that there will most likely be timeskips to seperate the volumes (There's gonna be two or three volumes, I'm not entirely sure yet).

So anyway, should the dragon learn to say a few words in Volume one and then be pretty much fluent when Volume two rolls around? OR should he just be a incapable for the entire thing; like, he can understand humans and commands and such but he can't actually talk. I'll put a poll up on my account so you decide.


	11. Chapter 11 Blood Seal

Chapter 11: Blood Seal

After just three minutes had passed, Reizo, Kazuya and Ayako noticed Shoryu appear at the entrance to the cliff's small alcove and begin his descent. Although he was still cautious, Shoryu seemed to climb down much faster, having spent years traversing the spire above his home. More than that, he seemed eager - almost impatient to get down. Fortunately this new vigour never betrayed him, as within just another minute he dropped down to the ground. He turned to them with a sheepish look, hunching his shoulders and biting what few nails he had remaining.

"Shoryu? Are you alright? Let me see your hands," said Reizo.

"I'm alright sensei, they'll heal," he replied. Cautiously Shoryu glanced around for one final look to see if any clones hid nearby. Once he was sure they were alone he continued. "But listen, you know what you said about this mission never going wrong and never so much as a hiccup has ever happened?"

"Yeah I remember, unless you count being attacked by weird Shadow Clones."

Reizo was about to press him further for the reason behind his awkward stance when his answer showed its face. From out of Shoryu's backpack a small creature popped up its head for a first look at sunlight. He rested his head on the boy's shoulder and let out a strange noise upon seeing Reizo and the others.

"Well, I don't suppose _this _ever happened before did it?" Shoryu finished. Pushing free of the zips, the reptilian bounced from the boy's pack to the ground and merrily made its way to the centre of Squad Thirteen as each member looked down in astonishment. It fell down onto all fours and coughed up a jet of flame like a cat choking up a furball.

"Did that. . ." Ayako began, though her shock prevented her from finishing her sentence.

Shoryu finished it for her. "Come from the egg? Yeah. And don't worry Reizo-sensei – I know how it looks. I swear to you though, I set the egg down on that strange pillow and I was on my way to out when it hatched, so we _did _technically complete the mission. He tried to follow me down no matter what I did, so I figured I'd carry him down so he didn't fall off the cliff and kill himself."

Reizo tried to find the words, yet none came to him. Such was his shock that the egg had actually hatched that his lips failed him. He had so many questions that he had no idea which to ask first.

"So it wasn't a hoax," figured Kazuya. "What I want to know is why now? I mean after ten years of being carted from place to place it finally hatches - that seems strange."

"Mm." The Jonin nodded his head; it was one of the questions he'd had in mind as well. "I can only assume that it was because Shoryu saved its life. Perhaps they know these things. Shoryu rescued it once with his jutsu, and even though it was indirect, he saved it again when he almost fell off the cliff."

"He's so. . ." Ayako spoke again, kneeling down to inspect the little beast. He kneaded her hand with his muzzle and looked up at her, sparkly-eyed and curious. "_Adorable!_" she squealed eventually, gaining a noise of delight from the creature.

Shoryu sighed, as did the others. "That wasn't the first word that came to mind," he admitted.

Just as Ayako reached out to pick him up though, the creature's face turned sober. Suddenly he vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving the group in complete silence, each wondering whether or not they'd simply imagined the presence of a _dragon_ in their midst.

"Okay. . ." Reizo looked around. "Where did he go?"

At once another eruption of smoke marked the return of the dragon, this time holding something. With the absence of opposable thumbs he couldn't quite grasp the large scroll he had pinched between his claws. Nevertheless, he managed to lay the scroll flat, and with a nudge of his foot rolled out the parchment to full size across the rocks.

Lengthways, smeared in a strange ink that looked suspiciously to Shoryu like blood, were five names side by side, followed by a handprint beneath them. Surrounding the scroll were multiple characters and symbols that escaped Shoryu's comprehension. Impatiently the dragon stamped his foot to point to a free slot, though Squad Thirteen were far more interested in the scroll itself.

"It's a summoning contract," whispered Kazuya. He knelt down to inspect it further out of nothing more than curiosity, yet before he could touch it the dragon bared its teeth into a snarl to warn him away. Following that, the creature simply plodded over to Shoryu's side and nudged him, staring up with that 'adorable' look that could not be refused.

"I think he wants you to sign it Shoryu," Reizo observed.

The dragon yet out a yap in confirmation of the Jonin's theory.

"Me?" Shoryu looked down to the horned animal, who simply nipped the cloth of his trousers and tried feebly to drag him over to the parchment. With Reizo's nodding as a blessing, Shoryu proceeded over to the scroll and knelt down. With no clue what to do his gaze wandered over the names faded into the paper. Four of them were clearly ages old, however the most recent one, whilst being hardly fresh, was far more noticeable than the others. It was also the only one on the series of names that was finalised with a left handed print.

Kazuya suddenly voiced Shoryu's thoughts. "Those first four must be centuries old, but that last one can't be older than a few decades."

Ayako nodded. "Whoever it is has _terrible _handwriting. I think it says. . . 'Shango Usorite'?"

"I'll be honest, I'm seeing 'Jenbon Utira'," confessed Reizo.

"Think it says 'Shuti Olara'," offered Kazuya.

Shoryu paused; it looked like none of those names to him, though if he squinted a little he could see exactly how his teammates had come to their conclusions. He saw 'Salaman Usola', though he doubted any of the others did, and doubted even further that it was actually the summoner's name. Ayako was right: whoever he or she was, their handwriting left much to be desired.

Interrupting his thoughts the dragon gave a cry and lightly butted his wrist with its nose.

"Easy!" Shoryu called. "I don't know what to do!"

"Write your name in the empty space using blood; it's an offering that seals the contract," instructed Reizo. "You normally have to cut yourself in order to do it, though I doubt you'll need to."

Shoryu nodded, seeing that his hands were already covered in the slick substance. Hesitantly he wrote his name in the slot provided to gain another sound of glee from the dragon. He was careful to spell it correctly and leave a good example for those who followed unlike the summoner who'd preceded him. Next, as Reizo instructed, he left a handprint below with each of his right hand fingers still fresh with blood.

Satisfied, the dragon gave his bloodied hand an affectionate lick and vanished along with the scroll, back to wherever it was that he lived.

"You should try summoning one," Reizo instructed.

Before Shoryu could ask how, the Jonin read his thoughts and elaborated. He explained about a blood donation that had to be offered, then demonstrated the five required seals and finally showed him the correct movement of slapping his hand down to the ground.

"Remember," he instructed. "You have to focus chakra to your palm and visualise the creature you want to call."

"Alright." Shoryu nodded his head as he began the process. He didn't expect much on his first try; perhaps a newly born hatchling like the one he'd just encountered. Still, the prospect of a new jutsu, especially one that involved such a legendary species, excited him. After finally executing the signs of the boar, the dog, the bird, the monkey and the ram, Shoryu slammed down his blood-stained palm to the ground as squiggly characters of ink tattooed the rocks.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_" he cried.

A flash of smoke billowed out beside his hand, marking the entrance to the very same dragon that had hatched earlier. He could tell it was the same one, because he seemed to have summoned the creature right as he was extending his tiny little arms to put the scroll back onto some high shelf that he could barely reach. Far from being annoyed though, the dragon's eyes lit up like diamonds yet again. He scrambled over to his new master's side and tugged at Shoryu's trouser leg, eager to play.

The boy picked the beast up under his arms as one would a baby. Happy from his sudden flight, the dragon let out another noise of satisfaction, prompting Shoryu to set him on his shoulders in a piggyback.

"_Chaka!_" he squealed in delight. From the boy's shoulders the dragon could see the entire land for miles, being more than five times higher than his usual height. He rested his chin on Shoryu's fluffy mane of hair and eyed the group, contented.

"Why did I summon the same one?" Shoryu asked. "Is that normal?"

Reizo shook his head and answered, "I think I know why; it's not a very nice idea, but it makes sense." He allowed the others to look for an answer before continuing. "I think he's the only one left. Think about it: if dragons were common we'd know about them. I think that our client, whoever he or she is, entrusted the egg to Cloud shinobi because they _wanted _it to hatch; they knew that it'd be in safe hands and that if anyone could use them to their fullest potential, it'd be the ninja."

"The clones," Kazuya said as another disturbing thought hit him. "They knew didn't they? They _had _to know it was real. Why would the Tsuchikage, or any competent leader for that matter, send a squadron after a supposed 'dragon egg' unless they knew it was a sure thing?"

Reizo nodded. "I agree. If that's the case then you'll have to send him away for now Shoryu; we can't be seen out here with the dragon in case the clones are still around. And I forbid all three of you to speak a word of this to anyone."

"I can't even tell my mother?" Shoryu checked.

"No, not even her. You have to understand Shoryu – these ninja want that dragon, so telling your mother would only put her in unnecessary danger. The less anyone knows about this, the safer they'll be."

* * *

After promising his code of silence to Reizo, Shoryu and the others headed back south, knowing that if the clones lurked nearby they'd be targeting the beacon. Already the sun had begun to set, and so they made camp in a small, secluded opening in the rocks a mile west of Hilan. Being surrounded by cliff faces on all sides meant that they had natural protection from ninja or other predators that might lurk nearby, and the inclusion of a cold stream allowed them to fill their flasks with water.

By the time Kazuya finally returned with firewood the sun had shifted into a late, glaring red with its hour or so of time remaining. Shoryu knew exactly what this meant. Even if it killed him, he'd have to endure Kazuya's brutal methods of training for a second time. Last night had been bad enough, but this time the samurai would be giving his bruises their own bruises. With shredded fingers, an aching back and a body full of injuries to contend with, Shoryu had little patience for it; his day had been gone relatively well up until these moments too, as the excitement of hatching a dragon had made him forget all about Kazuya's kenjutsu lesson.

Nevertheless, Shoryu refused to let the samurai get the best of him, so as soon as Reizo began to speak he leapt to his feet.

"Alright then, let's go," he said, putting on that same look of false excitement he'd used the previous day.

"Shoryu, you don't have to do this," offered Reizo. "No one will blame you if you refuse; Kazuya's methods are a little excessive after all."

The boy sighed; saying that only made it worse. It sounded as though the Jonin pitied him. "No that's alright," he answered, smiling. "Shall we?"

"Hn," was the extent of Kazuya's answer. He turned away from the camp and started up down the sloping ridge they'd descended to get here, looking as moody as ever thanks to Shoryu's acceptance of his training. Still maintaining his demeanour of faux-enthusiasm, Shoryu followed his teammate up the hill. He kept a few paces behind him whilst they searched for an adequate training area, just as he had done yesterday.

The rocky, barren hills made for a much more difficult fighting terrain than the simple forest meadows, and as a result it took them much longer to find a clearing that was suited for their needs. The outcropping rocks we constantly ready to snare at an ankle and the pebbles beneath them would often crumble, sending them into an awkward trip.

Eventually Kazuya spotted a place not unlike the area they'd previously trained. A lone tree sat at the top of an isolated patch of grass at the head of a narrow stream. After reaching it, Kazuya repeated the same process of using his ice manipulation prowess to snap off pieces of suitable wood for their spar. Shoryu caught his own as the boy threw them to him, closing his eyes and taking a sharp inhale to steel himself for a nightmare of torturous blows. Finally he opened his eyes, prompting Kazuya to speak.

"This session will be far more painful than the last," he revealed. "Are you still sure you want to do this? You can always back out."

Without hesitation Shoryu nodded. "Yes."

"You will know agony that you never even thought was possible. I won't hold anything back; you won't sleep for weeks after tonight."

"Psshh." Shoryu shrugged the boy's comments off as unimportant. "Don't flatter yourself. Can we just get this over with?"

Kazuya gave a final check. "You're _absolutely _sure?"

"Of course," Shoryu replied.

Instead of the expected lunge into an attack that Shoryu anticipated, Kazuya instead gave out an enormous sigh and dropped his shoulders in resignation. Shoryu paused; it was an oddly comic expression that he'd never seen the stern boy put out before, so dramatic and intentional that it seemed as if he'd been holding in that exhale for the last few years of his life.

"Fine," Kazuya grumbled. "Get back into position."

Before, Kazuya had never gave him time to even consider getting back into position before smacking him around, but even so, Shoryu cautiously shuffled into stance.

"No, no, no." Kazuya ordered. He let out another sigh. "There are only a few dual-wielders in my village but I know the stance well enough. You're too square, stand a little more to the side, and hold the sticks a little higher – they're not that heavy."

Shoryu adjusted his right foot so that he faced Kazuya with his left side.

"That's too side-on; a little closer."

Once again Shoryu glanced down at his right foot and shifted it slightly, resulting in a hum of acknowledgement from Kazuya. He didn't understand; what exactly was going on? What happened to all that 'agony you never thought was possible' stuff?

"Alright, now you know that shorter blade in your left? Hold it in a backhand style, like this." He demonstrated, twirling around his stick so that its edge pointed down along his forearm. "It's harder to master but more effective in the long run, just make sure you hold it so that the blade points away from your body – you don't want to end up stabbing yourself when you try and block something. From that stance you can use the shorter one to attack quickly and the longer one to follow through: try punching with your left hand."

Eyeing the boy suspiciously, Shoryu copied the strange method of holding his blade and threw a single hook into thin air, finding that with the offhand style it became a simple slash - far quicker and easier than lifting up his arm and swinging back down. Even so, the boy couldn't help but remain puzzled.

"Wait, is this an actual lesson?" he checked.

Again Kazuya spared an exasperated sigh, and feeling he owed Shoryu an explanation, he continued. "I don't hate you anywhere near as much as you seem to hate me," he said. "Last night you suggested that the reason behind my actions was to force you to quit - to beat you so badly that you wouldn't want to come back today. That's partly true: I've got better things to do than teach some brat kenjutsu." Kazuya savoured the look of irritation on Shoryu before he continued. "_However_. . . It's also true that I have no choice in the matter, and since that's the case, I had to be sure that I wasn't just teaching the ways of my clan to some amateur. Yesterday was a test: I figured that if you could take all that punishment and still come back you'd be commendable enough learn my village's technique."

Shoryu blinked twice, finding the samurai's explanation difficult to take in. _It was a test? _He wondered. And furthermore; Kazuya_ did _have a choice in the matter. Some of it made sense in a strange way; when he'd accused Kazuya of the reason behind his underhand tricks before he'd replied with 'that's half of it'. Shoryu had never had a chance to ask what the other half entailed, and here it was. More importantly:

"Wait. . ." he said, urgently needing to double-check what his partner had said. ". . . Did you just pay me a compliment?"

"Oh do you _have _to be so-"

"Does this mean we're friends?"

"Like hell it does," Kazuya told him flatly, though Shoryu was having none of it. Even without a mutual sense of malice between them the boy still felt the need to annoy him; it had become his routine after all.

"Whatever you say Kazu."

"It's still Kazuya."

In the hour and a half of training that followed, Shoryu sustained only two bruises as opposed to yesterday's low three-digit sum, and those were from faults of his own rather than the samurai's brutality. Kazuya instructed him on the finer points of swordplay, taking him right back to the basics he'd thought he'd long since mastered.

Even in such a short amount of time Shoryu felt he learned more in a couple of hours than he had in five years at the academy. At first he suspected that his hateful old mentor had taught him wrong on purpose, yet it wasn't long before he realised that he wasn't just learning basic swordplay; no, he was learning the ways of the Takashi clan. And what better tutor for kenjutsu than a real life samurai?

Often Kazuya would stand beside him and demonstrate how exactly he should swing his blade or string together combinations, allowing him to look over and mirror the precise movements with Kazuya correcting him with a groan every step of the way. Other times he'd face against the boy and be asked to put what he'd just learned to use. It was difficult at first, and Shoryu was quick to realise that there was far more to swords than he'd ever realised.

Even Kazuya, a boy born and raised around these techniques, confessed that he was no master and that there were samurai within his village who could shame him in moments. It was much more than just swinging around and hoping for the best; everything from his grip to his footwork was carefully critiqued and corrected by Kazuya. Initially Shoryu thought it patronising for him to nit-pick at such minor details, yet it was only after he'd altered his approach in accordance with Kazuya's instructions that he realised the benefits.

"Don't get the wrong idea about this," the samurai would say every so often. "There's a good chance we could be on the same team for a while and I don't want to get killed because you're too weak."

Kazuya taught him that patience and precision were the ingredients for great kenjutsu. As they duelled below the tree Shoryu finally noted the immense subtleties in Kazuya's technique that were so defined that he felt immediately inferior. He told the samurai that he'd never be able to match his level of skill, yet Kazuya only replied by reciting a philosophy that there were no limits to the power that discipline, time and training could achieve.

Eventually, when he saw that Shoryu could go no further, Kazuya deemed their session to be over; he allowed the boy to slump to the ground at the base of the tree whilst he sat down, cross legged and shut-eyed. Shoryu drank almost the entirety of his water and turned back to the boy, who he realised was practicing that odd meditation technique that he used daily. It was something he'd been curious about for a while, and now that the two were on civil terms he could finally ask.

"What is that thing anyway?" he quizzed. "I mean, you do it _every _day."

Kazuya's eyes reopened and he glanced to the floor, as if he was debating whether or not to tell Shoryu anything at all. "Since you're in training now I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you," he said. "Your Zawa clan, they have the legend of the Kanzen Raikyogan, right?"

Shoryu nodded. "Yeah, Reizo told me all about it. It hasn't been seen in centuries though."

"Well the swordsmen of the Takashi have their own legend. This meditation allows us to relax the mind. It might sound odd, but when you're calm – when you're at peace, you can fight much more effectively. They say emotion clouds the mind and therefore dulls the blade, something which my clan lives by. My clan's founder, Yamamoto Takashi, was said to have attained a sense of 'Ultimate Stillness'. They say his movements were flawless and left nothing to waste; that he could almost _see _the perfect path around his opponents and execute it with minimal difficulty."

"Sounds incredible," Shoryu agreed, fumbling around in his pockets. "He must've been quite the samurai."

"So they say. That's why I intend to do his sword justice," Kazuya revealed, looking over to the double sided weapon that lay before him.

Shoryu gasped, "Wait, so that's his old sword? How come you have that?"

The samurai seemed about to reply before something caught his eye. Shoryu had been groping around absently in his pockets and had finally retrieved the wooden flute he regularly played. He was about to blow a single key before he noticed Kazuya's gaze lingering over the instrument.

"May I have a look at that?" Kazuya got to his feet and strode over, towering over the slouching ninja and holding out his hand. Shoryu eyed him suspiciously; if it were any other day he'd figure Kazuya was about to snap it just to spite him, yet today the two had made progress, and he seemed genuinely curious about the small wooden flute. On the other hand, he'd never let anyone touch it before; being one of the only things left he had from his father, it was more than just precious to Shoryu.

"Why?" he asked, clutching it tightly.

"Please, I just need to check something. It's been bugging me for a while now."

Shoryu looked up at the samurai's cold, unwavering expression until he finally surrendered the flute, warning, "Just be careful with it."

Kazuya turned the instrument over twice in his hands. He looked down the mouthpiece and then to the opening at the opposite end from where the music sounded. Having finally proven his theory correct, he presented it back to Shoryu and pointed to the tip of the flute, to the tiniest, most miniscule symbol engraved upon it.

Even after five years of playing he'd never noticed the diamond shaped emblem, though he failed to see how it was significant in any way until he looked back up at Kazuya, who held up the very same symbol on his wristguard. Curiously enough, he then lifted up his sword. The very same sword that had been wielded by the founder of the Takashi clan bore this symbol. It was too much of a coincidence.

"I'd recognise that sound anywhere," Kazuya said. "It comes from my village – there's no other like it."

"_Whoa. . ._" Shoryu only made a noise of awe as Kazuya passed him back the instrument. "My mother always said he received it as a gift from some friends in a village down south. I never thought for a second it could be _your _village."

"It's a strange coincidence I'll admit," Kazuya agreed. "But these things do happen from time to time."

"Hey, maybe my father knew yours!" suggested Shoryu.

"If that were the case then it'd be a shame he's dead. My father left the village not long after I was born and he disappeared entirely before I could turn five. My mother died before I was old enough to talk and I was raised by her sister. She hardly ever spoke to my mother so she couldn't tell me anything about my real father; I've no idea who he is, whether or not he's a samurai or if he's even alive."

Shoryu paused. At least now he knew why Kazuya had said that he wished to find his father before. More than anything he empathised with the boy, and it was only in the last five minutes that he realised the two were more alike than he dared think.

"I never knew my father either. Sure my mother did, but I don't like to ask her about him. I think it upsets her a bit when I do."

Kazuya nodded, acknowledging Shoryu's dilemma whilst avoiding continuing their discussion at the same time. "Come on, we should get back – it's getting dark."

Shoryu tried once in vain to get back to his feet. He still hadn't bandaged the mess of his right hand and never intended to; if his fingers were covered in plasters he wouldn't be able to summon his new dragon. His muscles ached and his fingers throbbed so painfully that pushing himself up off the tree was an ordeal.

"Care to lend me a hand?" he said.

Kazuya only scoffed and turned his back with every intention of leaving Shoryu behind. "Don't push your luck."

The boy grinned, and with a hiss of pain he finally managed to fight his way to his feet, shuffling along behind Kazuya for the trek back to camp.

* * *

The moment he arrived Ayako rushed over to inspect him again, ready to chastise Kazuya for his unfair treatment until she realised that Shoryu was unharmed. He still bore the scars of yesterday's training, but their colour had faded with age and only two new bruises were present. One formed an ugly splodge across his arm, whilst the other streaked up his left leg.

"What, did he stab you for real this time or something?" she asked, meaning it.

"No, no – of course not. It just went a little better today is all."

Ayako eyed the samurai with an evil glare before crossing her arms and briskly walking back to the tent. Reizo instructed each of them to do so, yet once again Shoryu was allowed to stay outside for another hour, as was Kazuya. They headed off in separate directions; as much as Shoryu was eager to learn, he'd been given much to practice in the last few days that he was spoiled for choice. The duration of his stream technique quickly needed raising from its modest five seconds, the dragon summoning needed perfecting and Kazuya's training had opened new doors of swordplay that he needed to open.

In the end Shoryu segregated the three disciplines into thirty minute intervals, finding a wide open stretch of canyon and taking aim at an oversized boulder. The Air Slash stream managed to flare out for a whole six and a half seconds before slipping from his grasp by the end of it. He knew that Kazuya was training his own much harder, though with his stubborn training method he'd need far more time to increase his total duration.

A short break and a flask of water later and Shoryu pricked his already ravaged thumb with the edge of his sword and smeared blood across his palm, thrusting downwards and focusing chakra.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_" he bellowed, scaring away a few crows upon the rocks. Just as he expected, the flash of smoke and spread of ink gave way to the exact same dragon he'd hatched earlier on in the day. The creature squawked and cried until Shoryu realised why; being a newborn and still short of sight, the dragon could make out very little amongst the darkness.

"You know, for something like a dragon you're not exactly the most powerful of beings are you? I mean it'll be at least a few years before you're able to fight," Shoryu noted.

The dragon only made a noise and tilted its head, giving a look that Shoryu knew Ayako would be unable to resist melting over.

The final rays of sun had almost blinked out over the horizon, so Shoryu found a nearby tree, snapped off a few branches and tried to start a fire.

It wasn't until he took a pair of sticks in his hand and began rubbing them together that Shoryu realised just how difficult lighting a fire was. Without Reizo's jutsu it was nearly impossible. With this in mind, Shoryu figured out a plan. He knew that fire needed wind to survive and that it grew stronger from wind, so whenever his two stakes finally seeped a thin layer of smoke he blasted it with the Air Slash Stream, only to find that he quickly put out the small flicker he'd made, either by overpowering it or cutting it in two.

During his ordeals the dragon simply sat and watched the silhouette of his master trying to generate enough friction to start a fire. Once his eyes had adjusted the tiny creature realised exactly what Shoryu was attempting, and so he hopped forward with a little squeak and tried to help. Filling its lungs with a white-hot flame, the dragon suddenly expelled a tiny inferno onto the bundle of wood Shoryu had collected.

At the same time though, the boy thought he saw smoke once again between the dry sticks he rubbed together and fired off his jutsu in a feeble attempt to start the fire. From opposing angles, Shoryu's imprecise blast of wind and the dragon's breath of fire collided. Like the eruption of a paper-bomb the fire expanded and billowed out suddenly into a six foot flame that made both Shoryu and his tiny friend leap back in fear.

By the time Shoryu got to his feet the explosion had simmered down into a small campfire like he'd originally intended, though already he'd seen the deadly effects of combining wind and fire. He leant past the flame and looked to the cheerful looking dragon, grinning as an idea came to his head. With this new summon he didn't need to go through more advanced training to master another element; however tiny its flame might be, Shoryu could, in time, use wind to expand and manipulate the fire to his will.

"It looks like you're not so weak after all," he said.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hey guys, sorry this is a bit late - I went on holiday for five days, my bad for not mentioning it in the last chapter.

So yeah, I know this wasn't the most detailed chapter but hopefully it helped satisfy a few of the unanswered questions whilst posing a few more (I seem to be going all J. on you guys). Finally Kazuya is warming up a little but even if he and Shoryu _do_ end up becoming best of friends I'd still like to keep this weird relationship they have going because it's really fun to write. After all, it's not uncommon for friends to be constantly trying to annoy each other.

I never actually realised how familiar Kazuya's backstory sounded until I read over it - Both parents gone, raised by an aunt who wasn't on speaking terms with his mother? Now all we need is a cupboard under the stairs =S Actually whilst I'm on that subject - go watch the new Harry Potter film! So sad to see it go - for fourteen years it's been one of the frachises I followed the most; my childhood was practically _built_ on Harry Potter.

Got a drawing of Reizo coming up with the next chapter as well, and I'll probably draw in the Daimyo Raikyogan that he has, so that should be fun :D


	12. Chapter 12 The Festival at Kateri

Chapter 12: The Festival at Kateri

"_Alright!_ It's time for another first!" Shoryu cried, suddenly wrenching his way out of the group and towards one of the many stalls crammed together. It had taken them only a few hours upon rising early to reach Kateri, and in just a few short days its population had nearly tripled with the immense mass of people who'd travelled far and wide for the imminent festival. The bruises and the heavy load had given him much less trouble on the ramble back through grassy planes, partly because they'd began to heal and partly because he'd gotten so used to the pain that he'd forgotten all about them.

He'd never seen so many people gathered together in one place. Stalls selling foods from all over the land stood opposite gift stores and merchandise shops that came with a hefty sum. The excitable cheers of infants coupled with the roar of early drunkards filled the streets, and occasionally a firework would go off before the big display scheduled for later at night. Shoryu fought his way through a mass of people and ducked under a multi-coloured tartan banner, walking past a fire breathing street performer (clearly practiced in the fire style of ninjutsu) as he made towards the small restaurant, comprised of only a single bar and a few stools on which to sit.

A cheerful woman beamed at him over the counter and she took the boy's order with a bow. Shoryu was so excited for his meal that he didn't even notice his squad follow him in until Ayako took a seat beside him.

"Ramen?" she quizzed, giving him a strange look as she peered around the stall. "You've never had ramen before? You're really sheltered huh? What's so special about ramen anyway? It doesn't really seem like something to get this excited about."

Shoryu tore away his fascinated gaze from the woman frying his noodles to offer his explanation. "Well they say the Sixth Hokage lived almost exclusively on a diet of ramen. I can't believe I've never tried it before! Who knows? Maybe the secret to his success lies at the bottom of the bowl."

"The Sixth Hokage?" asked Kazuya. "Wasn't he the ninja who-"

"-Saved the world, yeah." Shoryu replied, eagerly awaiting his meal.

"And he only ate ramen?" checked Kazuya.

"So they say."

"That doesn't seem very healthy. He sounds like an idiot to me."

"Hey!" Shoryu seized a pair of chopsticks and pointed them threateningly at his comrade. "Don't disrespect the Sixth Hokage! If it weren't for him we'd all be under the evil Madara Uchiha's Infinite Tsukuyomi and wander around under genjutsu as mindless slaves for all eternity!"

Kazuya, unsure of whether or not his partner was entirely serious as he brandished the sticks with a forced scowl, eventually put a hand to his protected forehead. "I'm sure that story has no doubt been dramatized over the ages. By now it's probably been altered so much that it's just a fairy tale."

"It's not a fairy tale! It happened! There's proof of it and everything!" Shoryu insisted, though his debate was short lived as a steaming bowl of barbeque pork ramen was presented before him. Immediately he forgot all about his altercation with Kazuya and tucked in, pinching a large twist of noodles between his chopsticks and gorging himself with a helping too big for his own mouth.

Eventually his teammates gave in and ordered themselves a bowl each whilst Shoryu stuffed his face. As enjoyable as the meal was, he should've realised that there was no way the simple concoction of noodles and pork would live up to his ridiculously high expectations. In spite of this he continued to smile and act like it was the greatest thing he'd ever tasted in his entire life, because he felt that to admit it to himself would be an insult to the Sixth Hokage. When he'd finished his dinner he paid up and waited patiently for the others to do so before they left.

Getting lost in Kateri would've been easy if they didn't have Reizo as a guide. The town was so huge and the streets were so packed that navigating it alone would be a nightmare. Fully grown adults who stood a whole head above each of the teens would block off their view and drown them amidst the crowd, ensuring they couldn't see the next stall or the names of any streets. Finally they came to an area far less crammed, where a whole range of acrobats flipped around and obvious con artists would set challenges for eager passers-by. They dared them to guess the value of a playing card, the amount of stones in a jar or which cup had the egg concealed beneath it.

Deception was part of a ninja's job, and as a result even Shoryu could see that half of these 'fair' challenges were won by a sleight of hand or some odd reverse psychology. They were cunning though; they had the whole crowd fooled and sometimes they would even lose on purpose just to convince others that they were legit. One act however, was very different from the rest: A girl sat in an empty ring as a queue of just three people lined up to face her.

She was tall and brown-haired; incredibly beautiful with large green eyes and voluptuous curves. She couldn't have been any older than eighteen, and like Ayako, her gentle appearance didn't at all seem befitting of the metallic plate fixed to the band around her arm. Unlike the familiar symbol of the cloud that he was used to though, one that looked like a distorted 'I' took its place. This girl was clearly from the Land of Wind, hailing from the Hidden Sand Village. Shoryu had never seen this kind of ninja in person before.

"Step right up everybody!" Shoryu was suddenly alerted to the presence of a plump announcer in his mid-forties advertising the girl. "It's the beautiful, smart and talented Kamiko Honami! The Hidden Sand's hidden prodigy! Master of Taijutsu! Fifty thousand ryo to whoever can land a single blow - and it's just a mere hundred to challenge her!"

This at least seemed authentic – Shoryu didn't suppose one could simply _fake _being good at hand to hand combat. The others shared his interest, as all four suddenly stopped as the announcer carried on his rant. 'Unbeaten,' 'incredible' and 'unstoppable' were some of the adjectives he used. Shoryu thought she didn't look like any of those; she just sat there quietly, meekly lowering her head in embarrassment.

"_YOU!_" roared the announcer, suddenly pointing an accusing finger towards the group, specifically to Reizo. "You look strong! And you're a local ninja! Care to test your mettle against Kamiko Honami?"

As over a dozen eyes turned to the man Reizo held up his hands in protest. "Look, with all due respect I'm a Jonin, and I've probably got five years and eighty pounds on her – it wouldn't be a fair fight. I wouldn't want to rob you of your money."

"She is also a Jonin!" bellowed the man. "Think of this as a practice bout to promote peace between our countries!"

The hard, encouraging stares of the nearby crowd forced Reizo into a corner. On the one hand he didn't want to hurt this delicate woman, but his pride slowly began to win him over, especially with Shoryu and Ayako egging him on by his side. "Alright you're on," he said, resigning himself to the stage. "Taijutsu isn't exactly my forte but this shouldn't be _too _hard."

"Good man!"

The crowd separated to form a path as Reizo strode to the front of the queue and into the circular ring. He paid up the one hundred ryo and the girl got to her feet, falling into a stance without flaws or openings.

"We're never gonna be able to follow this fight properly," Shoryu muttered unfairly. "You've seen how fast he moves, even without the Raikyogan. It'll be over before we know what's happened!"

Ayako let out a disappointed sigh in realising that Shoryu was right. Kazuya meanwhile had no intention of missing the fight. He'd seen the technique only a few times, but the sight of Kazuya weaving those odd hand signs told Shoryu that he'd get another look at the samurai's signature dojutsu. His digits twisted and interlocked with each other, contorting like the elusive movements of a puppeteer until ten signs had been successfully executed. Kazuya's hands suddenly separated as he clasped his hands on the shoulders of Shoryu and Ayako.

"_Vortex Shift: Time Slow Jutsu._"

Shoryu had never felt so sick in his life. His head spun and throbbed like a blow to the temple as Kazuya's eyes twisted into a spiral pattern and the entire world slowed down around him. The people of the town walked at a snail's pace and the cheers of the crowd deepened in a comically drawn out pitch. The flags baring countless symbols flapped deliberately against the wind, and every drop of water trickling off a nearby fountain could be heard, making Shoryu mistake it for sudden rain at first.

The boy clutched his stomach and only barely managed to stay on his feet, swallowing back down a small mouthful of hot vomit.

"_Don't _move about so much, and don't speak too loud," Kazuya muttered. "If you move and draw attention to yourselves you'll just look like a blur making noises like a sped up record to anyone else."

Ayako replied under her breath, "I didn't even know you could project this onto other people."

"It's impractical since I have to keep physical contact," Kazuya said. Shoryu suddenly noticed the samurai's hand still clamped on his shoulder. "And it drains my chakra considerably. Watch, it's about to start."

Finally shaking off the bursting headache and pit in his stomach, Shoryu flipped his eyes back over to the fight. Whilst they looked sluggish to him now, Reizo's movements were quicker than any other. A booming roar cried over the chatter to announce the start of the fight as right away all three saw that something was wrong; something that defied the laws of physics. Kamiko Honami moved at regular speeds to the eyes of Kazuya's dojutsu.

When all others, even Reizo, had fallen into slow motion, Kamiko Honami looked to be moving comfortably as she eased into a block from Reizo's precise strike. To the people watching she must've moved as nothing more than a series of hazy impressions. Their sensei might've had an easier time tracking her speeds, but being able to see an attack and being able to block it were two different things. Kamiko swung a fist with more power than her slender form should've allowed before launching into a pair of turning kicks.

Each move missed Reizo by only a hair's breadth as he fell back on his instincts and dodged like his life depended on it. Since throwing the very first punch the Jonin hadn't had a single opportunity to go back on the offensive with the younger girl pressuring him back.

"How is she doing that?" Ayako asked, "It's like she's using the same technique as Kazuya, but her eyes haven't changed!"

After staring in silent awe at the battle before him, Kazuya finally spoke. "It's no trick. . ." he revealed, still unbelieving of the scene his spiral eyes presented to him. "She really _is_ that fast. She could even be faster than sensei when he uses his Raikyogan."

"Faster than _that?_ Without a kekkei genkai or anything?" Shoryu couldn't believe his ears.

"It's very possible."

Even Shoryu noticed the look of panic on Reizo whenever a swift blow came within an inch of his face. He used every step of the arena to hop to safety as punches and kicks streamed his way in a relentless barrage. Finally though, Reizo could've sworn he saw an opening in Kamiko's defence. He swung back into close-quarters as fast as his body would allow and aimed a fist straight for the girl's clavicle.

Even as he threw the punch Reizo scolded himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kamiko's right foot hook behind his damaged heel and sweep him right off his feet. There had been no opening; she'd lured him into attacking, knowing that she'd get her move in first. The twinge of pain to Reizo's heel was accompanied by that of his back slamming into the ground before he could even comprehend what she'd done.

Kamiko rapped the Jonin softly on the chest to win the match before extending her hand and helping him back to his feet, where she politely took to patting the dust from his back. He was moments away from telling her it was unnecessary before she spun him around again and shook his hand with a pleasant smile.

"Sorry about that. I had to resort to more extreme measures to win; you're probably the toughest I've ever sparred with."

"I must say I'm impressed. I underestimated you," Reizo admitted, swallowing his pride. "I had no idea the Hidden Sand harboured such talent. Perhaps the Land of Lightning is getting sloppy."

Kamiko bowed graciously and extended a finger to the sky as a thought hit her. "Well the Chunin exams are next month. I guess we'll see about that when they come around."

"I suppose we will." Reizo grinned with his competitive attitude back in full force and shook her hand again before returning back towards Squad Thirteen.

As Shoryu found himself whizzing back into real-time he noticed that commoners were _still _queuing up to fight Kamiko despite an incredibly powerful ninja losing. He supposed the fifty thousand ryo reward for beating her was too great an opportunity to miss out on. He still couldn't believe it though; that a fully grown man, the greatest ninja he'd ever met with a physique almost entirely made up of corded muscle, had been bested by a girl half his size. Shoryu looked from his sensei and then back to her to compare the difference again before he noticed something.

A simple tattoo had been inked into her right arm, the shape of twin crescents of different sizes arching towards each other in a shade of dark violet. He'd seen it somewhere before; in fact it was on the tip of his tongue as he stared curiously at it. To his dismay though, Kamiko turned to obscure his view of it and announced she was going off for a break. Before he had time to ponder any further on the brief glimpse he'd caught of the marking, Reizo interrupted them.

"_Whew!_" he announced. "That was a good fight – I have to say, I didn't think she'd be _that _good! Even if I could use my spear, the Raikyogan and my jutsu she'd still probably give me a run for my money."

"Sensei, she was inhumanly fast. We watched move her at normal speeds under ten hand signs of my jutsu," informed Kazuya, trying to impress the gravity of the situation on the older man.

"Really?" Reizo spared a casual glance backward. "I'm not surprised. She obviously had a few Inner Gates open. My guess is that she's learned to break her body's chakra receptors on the fly without anyone noticing; it's incredible for a girl of her age. I can't say for certain how many she had opened though – it could be anywhere between two and six."

Ayako remained confused. "Inner Gates?" she asked.

"Limiters in the body that restrict how much chakra you can generate. There are eight of them in total," Kazuya explained.

"You seem to know a lot Kazuya, can you open any?" quizzed Reizo.

"Two." Kazuya held up a pair of fingers that looked like an unintentional peace sign. "Any more than that and it disrupts my concentration."

Shoryu nodded and thoughtfully assessed Kazuya's latest revelation. It made sense in a way; if what he said the previous night about maintaining stillness of the mind during battle was true, then the act of forcefully opening the body's valves of chakra would no doubt break that stillness. As a result, opening the third Gate of Life would probably hinder his performance rather than aiding it.

"Impressive," Reizo said. He turned back to the ring, but Kamiko was already long gone, along with that strange tattoo that Shoryu was so interested in. "At any rate that girl is one of a kind. I know ninja who have trained in Taijutsu for twice as many years as she's been living and come nowhere close to her level. Either she's got an extraordinary amount of natural talent or some kind of mutation."

"Like a kekkei genkai?" said Ayako.

"Perhaps, but then again I've never heard of a kekkei genkai that amplifies Taijutsu – it's generally a discipline that requires, well, discipline."

After a few wild speculations from Squad Thirteen Reizo concluded that there were ninja in the world with powers still beyond their understanding; it wasn't a real explanation, but it was the best he could offer as they strolled through the masses of foreign folk. Shoryu curtly announced that he was off to train just outside the town and Reizo gave his blessing, reminding him to not burn himself out too much and meet them later in the evening so he could practice with Kazuya.

* * *

A day ago such a command would provoke fear and dread from Shoryu. This time though, he found that excitement overwhelmed him. Maybe it was the perfectionist side of him that he'd inherited from his mother, but for as long as he could remember Shoryu had strived towards becoming being a ninja who could attack from any distance and adapt to any situation, and since his kenjutsu had always been rather lacking in comparison to his other disciplines he'd never quite grasped being an all-rounder. He knew that with just a few more sessions from Kazuya he could train and expand upon what he'd learned to make his swordsmanship on the same level as the others.

Months had passed since Shoryu had proved himself the weakest of Squad Thirteen by losing to both Ayako and Kazuya. Even back then however, Reizo had still told him that he was the most versatile; he had a pair of swords for close range, wind jutsu for mid-range and his trusty windmill shuriken if he wanted to attack from afar. Ayako meanwhile had very little skill in Taijutsu to defend herself up close, and Kazuya's Cryo Blast didn't extend far enough to be called a long range attack.

As much as his kenjutsu had improved since yesterday though, this progress paled in comparison to the Wind Slash stream he'd been trying so desperately to perfect. Ayako had confessed to him earlier that she'd managed six seconds on the stream technique and a glimpse of Kazuya's training told him that the samurai had accomplished seven. Shoryu meanwhile was still in the lead with a whole eight seconds of sustaining the complex jutsu.

'_Whichever of you can make it to ten seconds, being steady and controlled without stopping once, will get my fee for this C-Rank assignment on top of their own.' - _Reizo had said those very words to them less than a week ago. Tomorrow afternoon they'd arrive back in the Village Hidden in the Clouds, meaning Shoryu had all of tonight and the stoppage breaks of tomorrow to add another two seconds to his stream's duration.

_Easy_, he told himself, and it really would be. Shoryu had managed to regulate his chakra so precisely now that even eight seconds holding the jutsu wasn't enough to tire him out. The tricky part was the extra challenge he'd set for himself: putting what he'd learned together with a powerful phenomenon he'd discovered whilst building the fire. The boy made several cuts on his fingers with his holstered shuriken, and after lacing a few hand signs together he suddenly palmed the grass beneath him with his scabbing right hand.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_" he cried, as from the wave of mist his impact created the recognisable cry of the dragon he'd hatched squealed in joy.

"You ready to get to work little guy?" Shoryu asked.

"_Cha!_" was the extent of the dragon's reply. Even the incomprehensible babble was made understandable by the happy expression on the tiny thing. Shoryu suspected the poor creature was just happy to see the light of day as he began more and more to believe Reizo's theory about him being the last one left. It must've been pretty lonely wherever he came from, so regular visits to Shoryu were the highlight of his day.

* * *

The hour had just struck seven when Shoryu met up with Reizo and Ayako at the base of Kateri's enormous clock right at the centre of the city. His face and clothes were covered in ash, and the corners of his brown eyebrows had been burned black by some kind of flame. In spite of this, Shoryu walked normally, showing few signs of fatigue and even less signs of knowing that he looked like a failed chimney sweeper.

Ayako arched an eyebrow as she asked the obvious question. "What happened to you?"

"Huh?" Seeing that she examined his face with that look of confusion, Shoryu raised a hand and dabbed his soot stained face with a single index finger. His own eyebrows shot up when he saw the ash he'd smudged off; apparently he'd failed to see what a mess he looked like. "Oh, must've been the dragon," he realised, and proceeded to rub it off with the edge of his shirt.

"What, did you two fall out or something?" Kazuya's voice suddenly drifted through the crowds behind him as he returned from his own training session. "Don't tell me you got your ass kicked by that little thing?"

"You wish," Shoryu scoffed.

"Ready to go then?"

"Sure."

Almost as soon as Kazuya had arrived he'd taken off again without even acknowledging the other two members of his squad with Shoryu in tow, leaving Ayako and Reizo with perplexed expressions as they watched the two boys disappear into the city. What they'd just witnessed had been a complete breakthrough; after months of forcefully trying to get them to cooperate, the two had reached civil – almost friendly terms with each other when no one had been looking. Was it something to do with last night's training?

"Umm, is it just me or do those two seem to be getting along a lot better?" said the bemused girl, needing a confirmation of the unbelievable scene she'd just witnessed. Normally Kazuya would've treated this as a chore, but his tone reflected no malice or bitterness this time. Shoryu on the other hand would've replied with a snappy one-liner and gone along with a show of forced enthusiasm, only this time it seemed genuine.

"I think you might be right there," Reizo observed.

* * *

With a smile on his face Shoryu marched after the distant samurai, eventually catching up to him and deciding to walk at his side rather than six steps behind. The two made their way through town and soon found themselves leaving the crowds and all the noise of the festival behind as they reached the outskirts. Under the late red sun they trekked over fertile grass half a mile stray of the main road.

Eventually Kazuya stopped, hopped up and down to test the ground and deemed this location appropriate. Once again Shoryu found himself quietly wondering what kind of criteria Kazuya used to determine how suitable a training ground was; after all this particular stretch of grass looked no different to him than the twenty minutes' worth of field they'd just crossed. What puzzled him most though was the absence of a tree; normally Kazuya would snap off branches for them to spar with, but here there wasn't a single tree in sight.

"We'll use our own weapons today," he decided, answering Shoryu's question. "You can perform the Blocking Jutsu right?" Kazuya didn't even give the boy time to answer before he thrust the covered sword of his clan's founder into the boy's hands. Carefully unsheathing it, Shoryu pulled off four hand signs, moulded his chakra and expelled it onto each blade before withdrawing his own pair and repeating the process. Even without being told Shoryu quickly handed back the double edged sword and took his stance a few paces away, twirling his left blade into a backhand style as instructed.

This earned him an analytical stare from the samurai as Kazuya studied Shoryu's pose like a food critic would to a plate of fish. Eventually he gave a grunt of approval, finding no flaws or openings in his guard much to Shoryu's delight. He'd practiced hard on what he'd learned the previous day to make sure he forgot nothing – he'd hate to waste time going over what he already knew when more progress could be made.

For the first hour Kazuya taught the boy the basics of his clan's method of parrying. Blocking an opponent's move was vital, but doing so whilst putting oneself in a decent position to strike back could tip a match in their favour, turning a defensive manoeuvre into an offensive one. First Kazuya demonstrated his own by asking Shoryu to come at him. As soon as he swung his first attack, the blade was batted aside and in a simple flourish Kazuya had twenty inches of tempered steel pressed to Shoryu's neck, pinning him with a simple tap to his throat that would've opened it right up if the Blocking Jutsu hadn't been in play.

As he tried his best to learn the move for himself Shoryu realised how heavy his real swords were in comparison to the sticks he'd been using for the last two sessions. Most times he failed were purely because he couldn't swing them fast enough to counter the samurai's lightning-fast movements, and apparently Kazuya slowed himself down to give Shoryu a chance. However that wasn't the only thing that hindered his concentration; something still dominated his thoughts more than training, and apparently Kazuya could see this.

"You're distracted," he said - it wasn't a question. "What's on your mind?"

Shoryu suddenly snapped from his deep session of thinking and looked back up at Kazuya. "Huh?" he said.

The samurai rolled his eyes. "Look, I couldn't care less what it's about, but until you get it out of your system you can't hope to keep up."

"Oh," Shoryu supposed; he had a point after all. Shoryu continued as he began to remove his jacket from the warmth of exercise. "It's nothing really; just something that's been bothering me."

"Which is?" Kazuya snapped.

"Well, it's this tattoo," he confessed. A look of bewilderment from Kazuya provoked him into elaborating. "On Kamiko I mean – it was on her arm, right here." Shoryu pointed. "I swear I've seen it before. It's on the tip of my tongue but I just can't get it out."

"What did it look like?"

"A marking - like a clan insignia. It was like this purple, curved, sharp symbol, if that makes any sense at all."

Kazuya thought for a few moments and let his eyes wander, double-checking how ridiculous his partner had sounded in knowing that the same symbol had been staring him right in the face for almost a week. "You mean like that symbol right there?" he muttered, pointing to the jacket of Shoryu's father.

Shoryu's head snapped around faster than any sword to the downed coat he'd just placed a moment ago. There it was: the odd insignia stitched onto Shoichi's combat jacket; it was the same mark that their suicidal clone friend seemed to recognise, and the same mark etched into Kamiko's arm. He'd been raking his brain and going mad for the last five hours trying to think where he'd remembered it from when all he had to do was simply look down. With it hugging so close to his chest at all times he rarely looked at it. Kazuya on the other hand would've seen it every time he looked Shoryu's way.

"That's it!" he cried, pointing at the jacket with a finger shaking in excitement. "That's the same symbol!"

"Are you sure?" Kazuya's eyes narrowed.

"Without a doubt – I'm positive. I just can't believe I didn't see it before! Thanks Kazuya."

Kazuya shrugged off the exclamation of gratitude and diverted their discussion to what it all meant. "Maybe she and your father were a part of the same clan then? Perhaps you're related? Actually. . ." His brain took over as he momentarily strained himself to remember what Kamiko looked like. "Brown hair? Green eyes? That's way too much of a coincidence – you're definitely related."

Shoryu suddenly lost the power of speech as it felt like another piece of some grand puzzle was revealed to him. The idea that he actually had any family left on his father's side was news to him; when he'd asked about the emblem before he set off, his mother had told him that Shoichi, his father, had only briefly mentioned brothers and sisters – maybe Kamiko was the daughter of one of them. Then with a shake of his head Shoryu remembered one important fact and refuted the idea.

"But she's from the Land of Wind!" he pointed out. "How could I have relatives that far out? My father was a Hidden Cloud ninja!"

Kazuya shrugged. "Just because you're from different countries doesn't mean you can't be related. Maybe your family were separated at birth, or they could have just liked different climates for all you know."

Shoryu bit his lip as he realised what Kazuya said was very true. "In that case I've got to go back and find her," he decided, picking up the jacket. "She might know something about the rest of my family."

"Forget it Shoryu, she would've finished her act by now. You really think you could find her amidst all those thousands of people? And that's assuming she stayed for the festival - she could be well on her way back to the Village Hidden in the Sand by now."

Shoryu cursed; Kazuya was right again. Finding her a second time would be like finding a needle in a haystack. She was long gone – if only he'd realised sooner he could've questioned her about that mark. Well he'd got it memorized now; if ever he saw it again he'd be ready. For now at least, there was no use crying over spilt milk.

And so the pair continued their training, with Shoryu now no longer distracted by the familiarity of the symbol driving him insane. As swords danced over fresh fields of grass he banished the thought of Kamiko from his mind; speculating was pointless with so little information to go on, so he diverted all his attention to his kenjutsu, finally getting a grasp on the effective technique of a parry.

After finally mastering it Kazuya taught him all about different combinations and how to execute them with as little unnecessary movement as possible. The fine subtleties of a follow-through assault were initially wasted on Shoryu for the first half hour. His strikes were slow and clumsy to Kazuya's eyes, and any time he swung for a second attack his arm arched far enough for the samurai to exploit the opening and attack back.

Eventually though, his speed increased, his footwork and timing grew in precision and he found enough power to attack without flailing about so much. Just a few seconds after Kazuya labelled him as being 'hopeless' he managed to string together five successive strikes whilst showing the boy no quarter in which to retaliate. Kazuya couldn't help but smile at this: apparently the key to Shoryu's strength was to antagonise him.

Many ninja and even the samurai of his village had their senses dulled from anger and frustration at being mocked. Shoryu on the other hand was the exact reverse: being a cool-headed cynic meant that his temper was always under control, and so taunting him only served to make him more focused and determined.

Night had fallen and the stars were alight by the time Shoryu was judged as passable at combination attacks. In Kazuya's lessons there were no time limits or curfews, they'd retire only when they got the job done. Shoryu had even resorted to summoning the dragon to light a fire in order to see their battle. Once the session was over the boy hit the deck beside the fire, almost bashing himself with his swords as he dramatically fell. As soon as he'd caught his breath Kazuya joined him by the blaze, and Shoryu did the honours of releasing the Blocking Jutsu on his blade.

For a while the two sat in silence. Occasionally Shoryu took a gulp of water and threw patches of grass onto the fire. He didn't want to go back to the town just yet; staying out here under the stars and looking reflectively up at the void was enough after a hard day's work to satisfy him. He was perfectly content with remaining here in silence for the remainder of the night, yet to his utmost surprise, Kazuya eventually spoke.

"Thank you Shoryu," he said.

Baffled, Shoryu turned his way. Did Kazuya just say what he thought? "What's with that? If anything I should be thanking you! You're the one training me after all."

"Mm." Kazuya looked off into the distance, staring right past Shoryu and gazing to the south. Sorrow filled his deep hazel eyes as he continued. "It might surprise you to hear this, but like you, I don't actually have a sparring partner back home. . . So thanks for doing this."

"Seriously?" asked Shoryu. "How come? I figured people would be practically lining up to train with you."

Sadly, Kazuya shook his head. "People are afraid of what will happen if they hurt me. I can't walk down the streets of my own village without people bowing and sparing offerings. It might sound like fun, but it's maddening. I've done nothing to earn their respect."

"Why do they do that?" was Shoryu's next question.

Kazuya answered, "I'm to be the next Taisho of my village. People don't harm the future Taisho."

"Taisho?" asked the boy. He'd heard the term before but its meaning escaped him. He presumed, "Is that like the samurai version of a Kage?"

"Of sorts. . . Like the Kage, the Taisho is the highest rank a samurai can attain, and often they are considered the strongest of their village. . ." Kazuya paused to find the right words. "However. . . A Taisho isn't elected or chosen in any way; it's a hereditary position, passed down through the generations to the eldest son."

"Wait, so you're the great, great, great grandson or something of your clan's founder? That's why you have his sword right?" Shoryu put the pieces together, but apparently not in the right order.

"Not quite," Kazuya shook his head again. "Like all samurai with the ice style, I am descended from Yamamoto Takashi, but my ancestry traces back to his _youngest_ son, so my branch isn't exactly first in line. The current Taisho and his wife are in their forties now, and they sired five daughters whilst his wife was able to reproduce. It's tradition that the position of Taisho can only be inherited by a man, so they looked for other candidates in young males of the clan to decide a future leader. Since I had my father's dojutsu, I suppose I was the obvious choice."

"I see," replied Shoryu. "And what about the eldest daughter of the current Taisho; what happens to her?"

"She and I are to be married. Our only common ancestry is almost twenty generations passed though, so we share only a small slither of blood. . . The way of the samurai is similar to the shinobi in one respect: you have to earn your status. The position of Taisho is passed down to the eldest son, but in the rare case that the eldest fails to prove his strength the youngest challenges him to the death for the position. Pressure is placed on upcoming Taisho to perform great deeds, and even more is placed on me since I'm not the legitimate heir."

"So what exactly are these great deeds you have to perform then? Give me an example." Shoryu asked, interested now that Kazuya was finally starting to open up.

"It depends on the situation of the village at the time. If military strength is weak the clansmen want to see a powerful leader; if relationships with the allied villages or the shinobi are failing they'll want to see a delegate with strong negotiating skills. If on the other hand the village's prosperity and wealth is at risk, the future Taisho, in this case me, is expected to find some other means of supplying the village's income."

Finally everything made sense to Shoryu as the cogs turned in his mind; everything about Kazuya from the way he acted to his reasons for being here was made clear. "So that's why you came to the Cloud Village," Shoryu calculated. This time it wasn't a question; he'd worked it all out for himself. "Your own village is failing and there's only so much samurai can make from farming, so you joined the shinobi to send the money you make from missions back home."

"Precisely," answered Kazuya. He averted his gaze from the south and switched his usual serious tone to one far more casual. "I can tell you this though: the samurai aren't exactly well versed on the income of a shinobi. Trying to make them understand the fact that a newly appointed Genin can only earn so much is like trying to make a shinobi grasp the concept of honour."

At this Shoryu couldn't help but laugh. It was the first time he'd ever heard Kazuya tell any kind of joke, and it wasn't even a very good one, but even so it earned a chuckle from the boy.

"So I pleaded and pleaded to Reizo to give us a C-Rank mission, and here we are right now."

Shoryu suddenly remembered the look of positive delight on Kazuya's face as soon as they'd received their orders for this mission. He didn't need the money for himself; he just needed enough to appease his clansmen until he climbed further up the ranks. For the second time in a today the words of his sensei came flooding back into memory: '_I'll tell you what: if either of you refuse to do this, the stream challenge will be called off - I'll keep the money for myself.' _It made sense to him now; he'd long since wondered why on earth Kazuya had decided to train him in the first place, and here was his answer. Reizo had made a point of insisting that if they refused to spar together he'd deny all three of them the chance at earning extra money. Kazuya needed anything he could get hold of.

Another ten seconds of awkward silence passed. "Why tell me all this?" Shoryu said at last. It was a fair point – Reizo clearly knew a little already and Ayako was completely in the dark, so of all people, why tell Shoryu?

Kazuya only sighed as he placed both hands behind his head and rowed back onto the ground. "Because I had to get it off my chest. . ." he revealed. "And because you're probably the closest thing I've got to a friend."

With Shoryu left stricken in a still face of astonishment, his eventual retort was cut off as a lone missile streaked up into the sky, reaching its highest point and blossoming over the sky with and explosion of countless crimson sparks. Half a dozen more fireworks followed with their own blasts of all different shapes and sizes, transforming the sky into a chaotic black palette complete with every colour of the rainbow intersecting and cutting across one another. Fireworks at the Village Hidden in the Clouds were reserved for only very special occasions, meaning Shoryu had only ever seen just a dismal few in action; these on the other hand were spectacular. The only giant display at the village was reserved for whenever a new Kage was chosen, and the tenth had been elected decades before his birth.

"Like hell I am," Shoryu said with a grin, mimicking Kazuya's speech from the previous night.

"Don't push it." Kazuya suddenly got to his feet, his stand unintentionally pronounced by a loud bang and a great bloom of azure silhouetting his form. "Anyway I'm off to train."

"Cool, see you," said Shoryu, never taking his eyes off the magnificent climax of the festival in the distance. When the great display finally began to simmer he reflected that training might not be such a bad idea. He knew instinctively that if he went all out for just another hour or two he could make it to ten seconds of the stream technique.

* * *

Two Hours Later

"Reizo-sensei! Reizo-sensei!" Shoryu cried. Having ran around the entirety of the village for the best part of thirty minutes he finally found their small encampment, where Ayako was already in bed and only the Jonin remained awake. He too seemed about to retire until Shoryu came bursting into the firelight, waving his arms and frantically crying out.

"I did it! I reached ten seconds!" he announced.

Reizo didn't speak until Shoryu had finally reached him and caught his breath. They still had until afternoon of the next day to pass ten seconds, but of all three candidates Reizo had always suspected Shoryu would do best in this exercise. "It's about time too. Let's see it then," he said.

Shoryu cleared his throat and began to execute hand signs, ignoring his sensei's confused stare at the fact that the seals he produced weren't for the Air Slash. The opening of the tent suddenly rustled and Ayako emerged, still in her night gown having been awoken by Shoryu's yelling. The boy grinned; a bigger audience to impress was one thing, but the opportunity to amaze Ayako was another he wouldn't pass up.

Since his hands were already bloodied from practicing, Shoryu neglected the section where he cut his fingers and immediately slapped his hand to his back rather than the ground.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_" he cried, as a puff of smoke later the dragon popped his inquisitive stare over Shoryu's right shoulder.

"Uh, Shoryu," started Reizo. "This is a test of the stream technique, not the summoning jutsu."

"I know, I know, just watch! It's awesome! You ready little guy?" The boy was barely able to keep his focus as his time had finally arrived, but with a shake of his head he concentrated every last ounce of his attention on his hands, blocking out the warm, impatient breath of the dragon blowing in his ear. "One. . ." He threw the first hand sign, the sign of the dog.

"Two. . ." As his fingers intertwined for the second seal - ironically that of the dragon - he heard the tiny beast on his shoulder suck in a lungful of air. Timing was everything with this jutsu, but if executed correctly he could generate force beyond his regular limits.

"Three!" he cried, finally showing the wind-governing sign of the bird and focusing chakra into the tips of his fingers, making it as thin and sharp as possible as the dragon's cheeks began to bulge like an oversized water balloon about to burst.

"_Wind Style: Flaming Air Slash Stream!_"

Simultaneously both wind chakra and naturally generated flame were suddenly expelled from two separate points, colliding at a point dangerously close to Shoryu's raised fingertips and releasing a torrent of countless blazing arcs of wind. Visualising the waterfall, Shoryu kept his chakra to a minimum and let out a steady stream as the dragon on his shoulder continued its prolonged exhale. Reizo tipped up an hourglass and began the countdown, watching as the bladed tongues of curved flames licked away at the ground with a roar like an active volcano.

"That's incredible!" said Ayako. Shoryu would've probably enjoyed the compliment if he was able to hear it over the immense sound of his jutsu. "How's he doing it Reizo-sensei?" she asked, turning to the Jonin.

"By being much smarter than I gave him credit for: he knows that as it is, his dragon's size means it can't fight by physical means and it can only shoot a very small flame - it's impractical for combat. However, by taking advantage of the elemental cycle and using his own wind nature he's managed to _make_ it practical. You ever sprayed aerosol onto a lighter? It's the same concept – if you blast a flame with enough wind then its mass increases, it doesn't even have to be a flammable substance – he's quite literally setting his Air Slash on fire," Reizo observed. He watched the shadows dance along with the flecks of heat before turning his head back to the hourglass. "Keep it up Shoryu! That's seven seconds!"

With renewed vigour Shoryu smoothed over his chakra and kept the stream going at a much steadier pace. Now that he'd mastered it, streaming was easy; he reckoned that even fifteen or twenty seconds wouldn't be too much of a stretch.

"Eight!"

Shoryu saved a sideways glance at the dragon to check how it was holding up. The creature grew short of breath, but another two seconds would be nothing; his main concern was the boy he saw out of the corner of his eye. Illuminated only by the blaze of his jutsu, Kazuya strode back towards the camp.

"Nine!" Reizo yelled.

For the longest second of his life Shoryu reconsidered as his mind went back to their previous conversation just a few hours ago. He'd worked out that the only reason Kazuya had even decided to train him in the first place was because of the chance to win Reizo's fee from the stream test, to present back to his clan if only to get them off his back for a few days. Shoryu had so much to thank him for the skills he'd acquired in such a short space of time, and robbing him of that chance would hardly be the best way to show his gratitude. He'd been so excited by the prospect of mastering the Flaming Air Slash and the stream technique that he'd forgotten about Kazuya completely.

He had to make it look convincing though; Kazuya would misinterpret his actions if he knew Shoryu had messed up on purpose. Finally, the boy spared a finale glance to his comrade and took a deep sigh as he prepared to take a dive.

"_Whoa!_" he yelped, suddenly pouring more chakra into his hand sign. At once it ignited in a billowing mass of flame that plumed up like a mushroom and engulfed the boy's face with an ashen cloud of asphyxiating black smoke. The soft croak of the dragon coughing beside him sounded in his ear, and once the dust cleared he rubbed his bloodshot eyes clear to a view of Reizo, holding up the hourglass as the final grain of sand fell into the lower chamber.

"Almost," said the Jonin. "But not quite – that was nine and a half seconds. I suppose I can let you off for that last half-second."

"_No!_" Shoryu's mouth acted on its own as Reizo shot him an odd look. "I mean – it's not fair really is it? I didn't make it to ten seconds in the end did I? I suppose I couldn't do it after all! I'll come back tomorrow and try it again!"

Whilst Ayako appeared confused, Shoryu could've sworn he saw a slight grin spread across Reizo's lips. In that moment he knew that Reizo had seen right through him – the Jonin recognised that Shoryu had taken a dive on purpose purely to give Kazuya a chance at winning the money. He judged that the pair's hatred for each other had turned into friendly rivalry overnight, and as such he saw no reason to put that fragile bond at risk just for the sake of being fair.

"Suit yourself then, I'll see you tomorrow," he said at last, retreating into the tent and leaving the smiling boy to himself as Kazuya walked into the camp.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Taking a break from rioting and looting to post fanfiction! Nah I'm joking, those kids out on the streets are scumbags - I hope they all get forcefully bummed in jail.

This is the last chapter that focuses on the egg mission (chapter 13 will start with them returning to the village). Also I thought you guys might appreciate the nod to continuity with the 'Sixth Hokage' debate at the beginning. Anyway the plot thickens again. That mark has made another appearance and it seems Shoryu has some kind of a family member. Kamiko (上子) literally means 'Superior Child' – bit of an egotistical name to call your daughter but I can reveal to you that her mum was/is a bit of a bitch.

The biggest revelation though is naturally from Kazuya, which pretty much explains everything about him. To put it into perspective, the 'Taisho' is Mifune's rank in the current series, it means 'General'. I added the idea that the position is hereditary for myself since we don't know much about it yet and I wanted to distinguish it from the Kage. I originally planned to do Kazuya's segment as a flashback but I thought I could develop the relationship between the two by having him describe it - this chapter was one of those dialogue heavy ones so writing it was a bit of a pain, but finally Shoryu and Kazuya are starting to act more like bros (that's short for brothers, not lovers :P).

Basically Kazuya resents many of his people because they treat him with respect he hasn't yet deserved. In that sense he's almost like Konohamaru, but to be honest I think it makes a bit more sense for Kazuya to have it because he's a samurai and obsessed with honour and stuff. No one likes Konohamaru anyway =D

And before you guys make a comment about incest on Kazuya being betrothed to his distant relative, I'll say again that their only common ancestry is almost 20 generations away - a lot of people in the real world end up marrying people far closer in line to them than that and they never know it. Just remember folks, Aragorn and Arwen from Lord of the Rings are actually first cousins. . . 39 times removed. Fun fact!

Oh yeah and the drawing of Reizo is finally online so you can go and check that out on my account if you want, he looks pretty badass and more intimidating than any of the others. Someone's clearly just managed to cut his face so he looks like he's about to annihilate them. I also posted something else on there two chapters ago but I kept forgetting to include it in this section: it's a chart I made in Excel of all the jutsu I've created, however trivial or briefly they appeared.

The chart includes the rank of the jutsu from D to S and their type. I plan to update it every time a new jutsu is introduced, so for example this week I updated it with the Flaming Air Slash. I also put the stream technique there – I know it's not technically something I made, but a number of fighters in Naruto use ninjutsu with 'stream' on the end and it's not recorded in any official databases, so I gave it a rank and put it in there. As it stands there is currently only one A rank (Daimyo Raikyogan) and zero S ranks, so hopefully this will grow as the ninja get stronger and the scale of the battles get larger. Kazuya's dojutsu is the only one that's missing - its rank hasn't been revealed yet because we haven't seen its full potential.


	13. Chapter 13 Personal Conflict

Chapter 13: Personal Conflict

"_Cryo Blast Stream!_"

As Reizo tipped up the small timer he let his mind wander, directing his thoughts back to those clones and their motives. They'd reached the chutes of the Hidden Cloud some two hours after noon the next day and he'd quickly reminded his three students that this was their last chance to reach the ten second marker before the challenge was over. As he expected, Shoryu had meekly looked away and gave some poor excuse not to participate. Kazuya on the other hand had stepped forwards and was now pouring all his determination into one consecutive stream of bladed ice.

The Jonin wondered how the tenth Raikage would react to the news of a hostile attack by Hidden Stone clones. He never knew quite what to make of the shrivelled old man that served as the head of the village: often his words inspired awe and implied great wisdom, yet other times his actions and decisions were not those of a reasonable man - he was impulsive, demanding and a complete authoritarian, often overriding the wise council of his subordinates. Through whispers from the older Jonin, Reizo got the impression that the Raikage had lost it in the last few decades, and that he was merely a shell of his former self.

He supposed it was understandable. Being over a hundred, Kira Asakura had been the tenth Raikage for more than fifty years now. As a child Reizo had heard the still-going rumour that he was about to retire soon or at least choose a successor, and so ever since he'd acquired the Daimyo Raikyogan that small boy's dream was to become the eleventh Raikage. Twenty years later and Kira was still no closer to appointing the next. The adolescent Reizo would occasionally hear the rumour start up again and his heart would be filled with joy, but now that he'd reached his twenties he'd grown to pay no attention every time he heard it.

Still, the demeanour of the Raikage frightened him; how _would _he react to the news of these clones? Would he see Reizo's side of the argument and suspect foul play or suddenly amount an assault upon the Land of Earth and all who opposed him? The last great ninja war had been two hundred years ago – no one alive, not even Kira himself had lived to see the fourth war, where the sixth Hokage and the Uchiha had gone head to head to decide the fate of the entire world.

More than anything, Reizo prayed it wouldn't come to that.

"Sensei? Reizo-sensei!"

"Huh?" The Jonin turned around at the sound of Ayako's cry to see that the timer had long since poured its entirety into the lower chamber. He looked up right as Kazuya's relentless column of ice slipped from his grasp, after which Shoryu and Ayako clapped to gain a simple nod from the modest samurai.

"Sorry about that, I got distracted. Well done Kazuya!" said Reizo. "I'll see that you get my fee. Although since the contents of this mission went beyond a C-Rank I'll also try and give you all a little bonus."

The three thanked him graciously, and as if to confirm his theory Reizo spied Shoryu smiling pleasantly at the site of frozen ground once Kazuya had turned his back. Together Squad Thirteen entered one of the stationary gondolas and allowed the mechanical device to pull them back up to the village at alarmingly fast speeds, watching as the countryside vanished in favour of a bleak look at the mountain's dull interior. Within just a few minutes they'd reached the Village Hidden in the Clouds.

No matter how many times he'd taken leave to distant lands Reizo always looked fondly upon the grand sight of his home whenever he returned. Everything from the dense, heavy air to the wooden gangways connecting spires to the sight of the great academy looming to the east and the Cloud headquarters to the west brought a smile to his face. He suspected the same could be said of Ayako and Shoryu; this was their home after all, and since this single week remained the longest they'd been away the first view was most welcoming.

He noticed Ayako beaming at the thought of seeing her family again, whilst Shoryu's face on the other hand dropped after realising he'd have to explain the vast stretch of bruises covering his body and the state of his ravaged fingers to his mother. Reizo's own family meanwhile did not seem so appealing.

A ninja suddenly approached them, bearing the crest of two bolts of lightning cut by a sword stitched to his jacket. Even without the Zawa clan insignia, both Reizo and Shoryu could tell right away that this man was a part of their family. Hair as black as night was spiked backwards past his ears and over his shoulders, forming a contrast against his pasty skin and pale white coat. His eyes were green like Reizo's; his features were sharp and his expression stern.

The ninja cast Shoryu a sideways look of disgust as the boy glared back, guarded and uneasy in the presence of the man.

"Cousin Reizo Yukizawa," he began, finally getting down to business. "You have been summoned to a family meeting."

Reizo dismissed the Zawa instantly with a flick of his hand. "It can wait. I have something to report that must go straight to the Raikage."

"This won't take long," insisted the man. "Your father is there. Surely you wouldn't want to keep him waiting?"

"My father?" Suddenly Reizo looked interested. He hadn't been intimidated as the Zawa seemed to expect, only vaguely amused and seemingly curious as to what his father might have to say. "Oh go on then; I suppose I can spare five minutes for the old buzzard."

Before Reizo was quickly led away by the man he gave a goodbye to his squad and told them he'd catch up with them later, adding that they could go home and he'd transfer the full report of the mission along with their fee. Shoryu suddenly felt bad; he knew immediately that this 'family meeting' concerned him. Reizo had mentioned once or twice that he'd not yet faced any disciplinary action for his actions all those months ago, when he'd defied a member of his own family and defended the disinherited, outcast Shoryu instead. The only reason he'd gone without punishment so far was that Zakari Takazawa, the ninja he'd fought for Shoryu's sake, had been in no condition to tell the tale.

Reizo was led in an uncomfortable quiet across the gangways of the village, with only the breeze around him and the distant noise from the nearby market to occasionally break the silence. This ninja that led him through the village had clearly been informed of Reizo's misadventures and disapproved, resulting in an awkward lack of conversation that made the five minute journey feel like a lifetime.

For once Reizo couldn't help but wish he was Shoryu; the quick witted and sharp tongued boy would no doubt have a cynical quip up his sleeve reserved exactly for this situation. He knew exactly how to grind Kazuya's gears, and since this strange ninja maintained the samurai's same initial aura of self-righteousness he'd be able to piss off this guy just as effectively. Before he could think up any retort though, the ninja had led him right up to the northernmost peak of the village and led him inside.

This was the grand estate of the Zawa family, the great manor in which Reizo had spent his youth. Three separate floors with countless rooms had been carved into the spire's interior and at least five balconies sprouted out from odd bedrooms for a view of the whole village. The furniture still smelled new, the numerous chandeliers gave more than enough light and the floor was spotless; not a crumb was spared for fear of any potential rodents. The main family lived here - the wealthy, highest ranking branch: the Yukizawa.

Aside from that, the estate was often used as a meeting place and a family headquarters of sorts for the Zawa. Shoryu had never even seen this place, let alone been allowed inside - just the thought of it sickened Reizo as the ninja with no personality showed him wordlessly into the dining hall in which he'd eaten his meals as a child. Two oak tables that could each sit a dozen men stretched across both sides of the decorated room. Matching chairs cushioned by deep green felt cast shadows under the dim light of the bracketed torches and the full view of every antique painting was shielded by a man or a woman.

The room was packed to the brim; every chair was filled with a Jonin and another troop of standing Chunin surrounded them. Each one bore the same judgemental scowl as the ninja who'd retrieved him, for all of them were Zawa, the family he'd supposedly betrayed. He counted over thirty in total; the only members of the clan missing were the youngsters and Shoryu's mother. Reizo spotted the two other wielders of the Daimyo Raikyogan, along with his father, who looked the most disgruntled and uncomfortable of all.

Saito Yukizawa, Reizo's father by blood, was the head of the family. Since Reizo had received the honour of manifesting the Daimyo Raikyogan, appointing that same position to him in later life had seemed the obvious choice until now.

"Reizo," said Saito, cutting off his son before he had a chance to mock them. "Zata's son Zakari awoke from his coma earlier this week."

Reizo smiled. "Did he now? How is he doing?"

"He was hit with so much electricity that his nervous system was ruined. He is frail and weak – he may never be able to walk properly again. He will certainly never be able to reclaim his rank as a ninja."

"Shame," remarked Reizo.

"Indeed. One so young and yet so-"

"-No no, I believe you misunderstand me father," Reizo interjected, savouring the look of shock on the others. "Shame he didn't succumb to his injuries. That man deserves to die after what he did."

"_So it's true!_" Saito leapt to his feet suddenly and slammed a fist down on the oak table as every Zawa in the room screamed angry remarks Reizo's way. Here he'd always been welcomed as a member of the family, yet now he felt more out of place than ever before in seeing thirty black haired ninja threatening him. Reizo couldn't help but smile to himself; these people who'd once respected him had suddenly changed in just a single sentence.

"I thought there must've been some mistake when Zakari told us that _you _were the one responsible for this. What madness possessed you to blast him with the Raikyogan?" demanded Saito.

Reizo suddenly looked confused. "I think Zakari's side of the story might be a little altered. I fought him, yes, but the fool did most of that damage to himself – idiot tried activating the Raikyogan in the rain. I was trying to prove a point, not kill him."

A voice in the doorway then called out. "None of that matters!" it coughed, prompting Reizo to turn back to the great oak opening to the sound of the wheezing, spluttering voice. At first he'd suspected a man of twice his own age, yet this was far from the case. He looked different than before, but this man was definitely Zakari Takazawa, hunched over on a pair of crutches as he staggered with extreme effort into the room. It was a sorry sight indeed; the ex-ninja's bones looked as thin and brittle as frozen sticks. His hands shook uncontrollably and he had a queer twitch in his neck whenever he stepped. His black hair had only just started to grow back in the few patches of his scalp that weren't completely charred as a result of his own stupidity.

Six of the Chunin Zawa rushed over to the half-dead Zakari; they reassured him with kind words and helped him over to a seat as they told him that he really should be resting. Reizo knew he should've felt sorry for him, but in spite of this he still couldn't help but feel nothing but hate towards Zakari. What he'd done to Shoryu was unforgiveable in his eyes. Unfortunately the rest of his family didn't share this view of the world.

"What matters is that I wouldn't be in this position now if it weren't for you!" said Zakari, his voice sounding like the vocal chords of an eighty year old smoker being dragged across gravel.

"It's an improvement," spat Reizo.

At this the soulless ninja clenched his fists and tried jumping up to his feet until his family members held him back and eased him down into the seat again.

Reizo grinned. "Careful Zakari, you might break something."

"Enough of this!" Saito Yukizawa roared as his pale skin turned red and the ancient oak table sustained another crack under the impact of his fist. "Reizo! Is it true what he told us about that boy? That you defended that blight on our noble clan instead of one of your own kin?"

"It's true! He chose that _boy _over me!"

With Zakari's throaty insistence filling the room Reizo allowed himself a great laugh much to the confusion of his family. "Oh please," he managed eventually. "Don't compare _yourself _to Shoryu Aizawa." Turning to his father, Reizo added, "and in all honesty if I remember the family tree right, I'm actually closer to Shoryu than I am to Zakari."

Several of the Jonin along with Saito Yukizawa himself turned up their noses and winced at the very mention of Shoryu, as if to say the name itself was taboo or some kind of vile swear word. It reminded the clan of its failure to sire a child with their Kekkei Genkai, a trait that had been passed down from child to child without fail for generations, being broken only by Shoryu. As such, they shifted the blame to him despite knowing that his lack of the dojutsu was no fault of his own; it was no one's fault, it was just easier to blame someone.

"The boy is a disgrace," muttered Saito. "Ever since the time of the Kanzen Raikyogan centuries ago, every child has been able to manifest a strain of the dojutsu. _You _are one of those fortunate enough among us to inherit the Daimyo rather than the basic strain, and yet you defend this failure?"

Reizo shook his head, cursing the stubborn blindness of his family. "You're forgetting yourselves. In this world it isn't our abilities or natural talents that make ninja who we are, it's our actions – our choices. Zakari here chose to disregard all the effort and hard work Shoryu put into his training because he wanted to fail him in his exam, for no other reason than his history with the clan. Shoryu on the other hand chose to keep trying and pushing forwards in spite of all you've done to him. The kid's got potential, and I saw Zakari pass far less capable ninja into the ranks of the Genin that day."

"If he had so much potential he'd be able to activate the Raikyogan," Saito insisted.

"That isn't his fault and you know it."

Saito didn't listen; he completely sightless when it came to reason. "What makes matters worse is that I hear you've taken him under your wing."

"I have, if only to keep the likes of you away from him." Reizo cast a sideways glare to the other two Jonin who'd each taken on a three-man cell at a similar time. No matter what the odds were, he never would've forgiven himself if he'd rescued Shoryu from the clutches of Zakari and straight into the hands of another squad leader by the name of Zawa.

"Reizo, I'll get right to the point," said Saito. "We can't allow you to continue this. Throw the kid out of your squad and sent him back to the academy, then in time we may be able to forgive your little transgression. The boy is nothing more than a stain on the honour of this family. . . 'Shoryu Aizawa' – and he even has the gall to use our name after we cut him off." Again Saito looked positively sickened by just Shoryu's name.

"Oh cut him some slack," Reizo groaned, palming his head. "I doubt he even _knows _what his father's surname was; what kind of name do you expect him to take if not his mother's?"

"Regardless, we can't allow you to keep pursuing this foolishness."

The curt, stubborn tone of his father's voice assured Reizo that he meant business. But so did he; he wouldn't just abandon Shoryu. "And what if I refuse?" he dared to ask.

"Then we'll treat you the same as we treat him. You'll be disinherited and no longer considered a member of our great clan. We can't allow you to act as a symbol of our power whilst you play sensei to that cretin."

Reizo sighed. He had a feeling it would come to this, Zakari had told him so on the night of their battle. Without a sound his arms dropped to his side, fumbling around in the small green pouch attached to his belt until he finally pulled out a single kunai knife. In that very instant the sound of charging thunder spread across the room as thirty pairs of eyes filled with the surge of lightning turned his way. Every ninja in the room save for Reizo and Zakari had activated the Raikyogan.

"You _dare _draw a weapon in here?" he heard his father say. He'd never be able to take them all on, especially with the two in the corner staring at him through the Daimyo strain, but challenging them was never his intention. Still without a sound Reizo brought up the dagger to his chest, and just when it seemed he was about to take his own life the Jonin carved a neat series of slits around the right side of his jacket. Before long a patch of white cloth fell into Reizo's spare hand, and he slapped it down on the heavy oak table without a second thought, staring intently at his own father, daring him to object.

"Then I'm sorry to disappoint you," he said, watching Saito's expression as the man cast a horrified look at the clan insignia he'd just cut out of his jacket. "But I quit. Shoryu's like a son to me – I won't abandon him, especially now that you've all shown your true colours. You'll regret this someday; I'll make Shoryu stronger than all of you, regardless of whatever power he does or doesn't have. And when that day comes you'll all beg to have him back."

A few ninja stifled chuckles at Reizo's audacious claim before they realised he was deadly serious. He turned before any could question his words and headed for the door, proud now that he'd gotten everything off his chest and proven himself a good man when push came to shove. He had no regrets, and his speech wasn't just for show; Shoryu _did _have the potential. He _would _become strong no matter what it took – that's the kind of person he was.

"Then prove it!" called Saito as his son reached the door. "It's Chunin exams in a month, and they're being hosted over here if you remember. Almost every Zawa to ever graduate from the Cloud academy has made Chunin with the first exam after their induction. If the brat really can surpass us then he'll do the same thing, or was all that just talk?"

Reizo stopped for a moment to consider the daring challenge his father had laid out for him. He'd said 'one day', not next month. Anyone with a brain could surmise that Zawa had ascended quickly through the ranks purely because of the Raikyogan; even the basic strain was equivalent to a B-Rank technique – a Jonin level ninjutsu. Telling Saito of this unfairness wouldn't matter though, he'd interpret it as cowardice, and furthermore Reizo's pride was beginning to get the best of him again. After much deliberation he finally answered, filling himself with all the confidence he placed in Shoryu.

"Fine," he said, never turning from the doorway. "Next month I'll take Squad Thirteen to the Chunin exams. There you'll see what Shoryu's _really _made of. He'll pass, you'll see."

With that, Reizo left his old family to their thoughts and set off across the hall to emerge back out in the open air of the village. In the excitement of his debate he'd almost forgotten about the report on the egg mission and the meeting with the Raikage he had to arrange. He got the distinct impression that his little family feud wouldn't be the first argument he would have today, and so with a heavy heart he set off towards the ninja headquarters.

At the very centre of the village, the Cloud's headquarters rose up like an enormous bubble, a series of piled spherical domes supported by four great pillars thrust deep into opposing mountainsides. To Reizo it reminded him of a giant, decorated lampshade with its cool shade of blue ringed in circles of royal gold at every level. In just ten minutes he'd walked there and pushed through the swarm of Genin, Chunin and Jonin up to the very top floor after ascending five flights of metallic spiral staircases.

On the highest level he'd find the office of the Raikage, the study he spent most of his time in. The tenth had no patience for others anymore; he rarely handed out missions personally and left all the paperwork to his subordinates whenever he could. In fact he often spent days upon days in his office without returning to his home. Many joked that this was because it took him so long to summon up the strength to get back down the stairs, but aside from rumours there wasn't much substantial evidence to even hazard a guess at what he did up there for so long.

Steeling himself beforehand, Reizo knocked at the door and waited for a reply. When none came after a whole minute he knocked again.

"Come in!" croaked an elderly voice.

The Raikage's office was the same as ever, Reizo noted. The walls were a light shade of golden and blue to match the building's exterior, lit up by almost a dozen scented candles that wafted their overpowering aroma right into Reizo's nostrils the moment he entered. The chaotic mix of different smells served to make him nauseous and lightheaded, as smoke of many different origins fused and wafted into his nose: flower petals, fruits, vegetables, incense and Kira's pipe weed were among the many.

On each of the five walls hung a portrait scaled photograph of two different Raikage, trimmed in silver and shot by the finest cameras of the village going all the way from the first Raikage to the tenth, Kira Asakura himself. Reizo couldn't help but notice that the first two Kage were in black and white only, but as soon as the third came around colour was introduced, marking clearly one of the first works of the shading ninjutsu from Ayako's ancient family.

A long, white beard hung from the Raikage's chin flowing all the way down to his chest. The few hairs that remained on his head were also white, and their divergence from his dark skin gave him the impression of an onion that had been left in the sun for far too long. His face was shrunken into a sea of wrinkles as though someone had sucked all the air from his cheeks, marked by the occasional blemish and finalised by a crooked smile showing several missing teeth. With his shrunken, hunched form he couldn't have been more than five feet tall, even on the rare occasion that he had to straighten himself out.

He made no effort to get up as the Jonin entered. Doing so would cause unnecessary strain on his bad hip and almost certainly make him short of breath. Reizo couldn't help but feel sorry for the man most of the time, though his sympathy never grew too large once he stopped to consider. _This _was supposed to be the village's most powerful warrior; why on earth did he keep this position instead of appointing a successor? Surely he knew that most Jonin could take him in a straight-up fight, didn't he?

"Ah, Reizo!" he managed. "Good to see you old friend, you just keep getting taller don't you?"

* * *

The moment Shoryu had returned home he'd found no real greeting or a 'good to see you!' from his beloved mother. She'd taken one look at the mess he'd made of himself and gone ballistic. He tried telling her that it was all a part of his training and that he didn't have to fear getting immensely bruised anymore now that Kazuya had softened up, but she heard none of it. He'd been whisked straight into the bathroom on the upper level and ordered to take a bath using one of the many salts that functioned as both a relaxant and a kind of healing ointment.

In his eagerness to quiz her about matters that troubled him Shoryu had originally rejected the idea, but since he'd get nothing from her until she was sure he was alright he decided to comply. He'd come to thank her for it later; as he enjoyed the long hot soak he felt the effect of the funny looking crystals almost immediately. His muscles felt lighter and a warm, tingling sensation raced up his fingers, preventing him from leaving the tub's embrace without a large amount of willpower. By the time he finally got out the bruises had faded somewhat; they were still noticeable, yet they didn't pain him half as much, and his wounded fingers received a similar treatment.

Quickly Shoryu dried up and changed into a fresh set of clothes. The jacket was unnecessary with the indoor humidity, but he needed it to make his point, so he grabbed it and headed for the stairs. He was greeted into the living room by the scent of noodles and a surprise hug of affection by his mother, who seemed to be feeling guilty after realising that she'd never even welcomed Shoryu back home before ordering him upstairs.

"So how was your trip?" she asked, returning to the stove.

Shoryu winced; he couldn't really tell her anything. Reizo had instructed him specifically to tell no one about the dragon, and the clone incident seemed to be a matter of world peace. Those were the two only interesting things that had happened, without them the mission had been relatively uneventful save for one thing.

"It was great, aside from getting my ass kicked," he joked. "I went to the festival at Kateri on the way back."

Yuuko continued to stir the simmering pan of noodles before cracking an egg and prying it gently into a bowl. "Oh yeah? I went to it years ago with your father. It's great - bit too crowded for my liking though."

"Yeah, anyway while we're on that subject." Shoryu grimaced and hardened his heart; talking about his father always seemed to upset the poor woman. "At the festival, I saw this symbol." He suddenly gestured to the marking on Shoichi's jacket, causing Yuuko to turn and inspect it.

"Your father's clan insignia? You saw it?" she asked.

Shoryu nodded. "Yes, as a tattoo on this girl. She looked like me too. I'm not sure, but I think we might be related. She's from the Land of Wind, do you know who she might be?"

Sadly Yuuko shook her head. As she'd stated before, she knew little of her late husband's family. Putting a name or a face to this girl was therefore impossible. "Sorry Shoryu, but I don't. If I remember rightly, your father had one brother and one sister, but he didn't get along well with either of them. He had a cousin he was fond of, but I never saw much of him either. The girl you saw could be the daughter of any one of them, or it could just be a coincidence."

Shoryu was afraid of this, yet for all his disappointment he'd expected it. This mystery wouldn't be solved overnight; he had a feeling he might never learn the truth about Kamiko Honami. An idea then hit Shoryu: it was a longshot and it proved nothing whatever the answer, but at least it might be a clue.

"My father was a Jonin wasn't he?"

Yuuko nodded.

"Well, this might sound weird, but how did he fight? I mean you served with him for all those years so you must know better than anyone. He wouldn't happen to have been a Taijutsu expert would he?"

Shoryu's mother laughed as she began to reminisce about old times. "No, he was a summoner, and the best I've ever seen at that."

"A summoner?" Shoryu asked. He had no idea someone could even specialise in summoning jutsu.

"He just had this real natural affinity for working with animals," Yuuko explained. "He must've had more than two dozen contracts – I never even saw some of the creatures he knew. The way he commanded them in battle was beyond anything I've ever seen, and he had enough chakra to call upon five different species at one time."

Another idea then came Shoryu. It was a wild, impossible theory, but his curiosity got the better of him. On the contract for the dragon there had been one name of the five that was recent, perhaps a decade or two old. The name had been so unintelligible with its awful handwriting that he'd been unable to make out even a single character at the time. It just seemed like too much of a coincidence: his father was no doubt alive at the time that blood seal was forged, and he was allegedly the best summoner the Village Hidden in the Clouds had to offer.

Then again, Shoryu had no way to ask his mother about whether or not Shoichi could summon _dragons _without arousing her suspicion, yet there was another way. On top of the incomprehensible handwriting there was another thing about the most recent blood seal that stood out to Shoryu: it had been the only one forged with a left handed print.

"Was he right handed or left handed?" Shoryu asked, realising only after he'd spoken how ridiculous a question it was.

"Right handed," Yuuko replied, looking curious. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh uh, no reason," said Shoryu. He knew it was too good to be true.

* * *

"_What did you say?_" Kira boomed, projecting his cracked, fragile voice as loud as he could. Reizo recoiled in fear at the man's sudden display of rage; he'd always known the Raikage was quick to anger, but he'd never seen him anywhere close to this bad. "_Attacked? By the Village Hidden in the Stones?_ This is unforgiveable! Dispatch a team immediately to return the favour, and if they decide to retaliate again I promise you we will have war!"

"_No!_" insisted the Jonin. Kira was about as stubborn as his father, and yet for the sake of peace Reizo was obliged this time to talk sense into him. He hadn't even gotten around to explaining all about the dragon and the egg, Kira didn't care about any of it, the only thing that concerned him was the foreign attack. Reizo continued, "Think about it sir! None of it makes sense! These clones were almost human – they couldn't die unless a fatal would was administered. Clearly they came from either a highly skilled organisation or just one ninja with powers beyond our comprehension; they weren't just some average strike team!"

"Just what are you getting at?" snapped the Raikage, his white whiskers twitching in annoyance.

"I'm saying that it's possible these men _weren't _from the Village Hidden in the Stones. It's equally plausible that someone simply outfitted them with those headbands to make it _appear_ as if they were natives to the Land of Earth. We've had great relations with them for years now, so why would they just attack us out of the blue? If they really wanted something from us they could've at least tried to negotiate first. It's hard to say for sure, but personally, I think the Stone Village was set up by someone. I don't know what the reason was but it looks that way to me."

With deceptive speed Kira suddenly leapt to his feet and with a single whack sent a smoking lamp of incense spinning across the room. He was utterly livid; even Reizo's astute council hadn't calmed him down. "_So you suggest I do nothing?_" he barked. "What you say might make sense, but how would this clone squad know your _exact_ location? Ever since the fourth Shinobi World War, the allied treaty has stated that all Kage have access to the mission files of other countries; clearly someone abused this agreement and used our files to track you down! Who else if not the Tsuchikage?"

Reizo paused to consider as he realised that Kira was right: only Kage had access to the dossiers from the missions of other countries should they ever wish to aid them or if the mission was a conflict of jurisdiction. With the supposed Stone ninja attacking, the Tsuchikage was the obvious choice, but if Reizo's theory was correct and he'd been framed then the only other candidates were the Kazekage, the Hokage and the Mizukage. The only question was who stood to profit the most?

"At the very least we can't risk war," Reizo advised. "We should set up a meeting with the Tsuchikage and see if we can sort all this without bloodshed."

Kira scoffed, "And what good would that do? He'll deny everything of course."

"Then take a sensory ninja with you to see whether or not he's lying. If he denies it and tells the truth we should order a summit conference to see who the real culprit is."

Finally the Raikage calmed, releasing a great exhale and shrinking back into his armchair, deflating like a balloon after the fatigue of his argument hit him. After a few moments he fished out his pipe and lit it before getting up and pacing the borders of the room. He'd take a drag of the pipe every so often and blow out a great ring of smoke. Reizo feared his eventual response as he leaned back against a blue portion of the wall and stroked his beard with his free hand, deep in thought.

The Raikage turned to the window, looking out over a broad view of the Village as he continued. "You're wise for your age Reizo – what you say may be true. . . I'll set up a meeting with the Tsuchikage. If it appeared he's innocent then a summit conference might be hard to arrange, but I'll have one if I have to beat it out of the other Kage."

Reizo figured that in his old age the Raikage was by far the weakest of the five shadows, but he wouldn't dare say it aloud.

"I might even be away for our Chunin exams," lamented Kira, "but I suppose it's a sacrifice I'll have to make. In the meantime though, I must write a message for the Tsuchikage. I think that telling others of this clone attack might not be the best idea – it'll cause rumours and chaos among the ranks."

Reizo was stunned; that was probably the wisest and most rational decision he'd ever seen Kira make.

"Since you and your team already know about this, I'll entrust it to you. This will be a top secret C-Rank mission: just take my letter to the border of the Land of Lightning and instruct a squad of ninja there to deliver it safely to the Tsuchikage. It shouldn't be more than a two day journey for your team to get there."

"As you wish, Raikage sir," said Reizo.

Patiently the Jonin waited for a whole half an hour as Kira Asakura turned to his furnished bronze desk and began to write a letter. He knew that wording such messages was a delicate matter, as the Raikage would have to ensure he didn't sound accusing or threatening. Even so, he took his sweet time on it. Reizo could've sworn he fell asleep at his desk twice until he finally rolled up the scroll and stamped it shut with his own signature wax stamp, a white oval stuck with the mark of the village that told its carriers that it was of the utmost importance.

With his mood finally simmering back down to make him that same pitiable old man, Kira handed Reizo the letter, with that being his cue to politely bow and leave with all haste. Feeling slightly dizzy Reizo made his way down the stairs as fast as was socially acceptable, walking out of headquarters and into the fresh mountain air once again. A single inhale of the cold, moist wind felt incredible after he'd spent so long in that festering, suffocating, smoke-shrouded hole the Raikage called his office.

To set off now when they'd only just returned home would be punishing, Reizo knew. However urgent the Raikage's letter was it could wait another day whilst Squad Thirteen recovered their strength. He knew Kazuya wouldn't mind, but Shoryu and Ayako had just seen their families after a week apart. He decided they'd depart first thing tomorrow and then set off towards his own home on the other side of town, enjoying the breeze that frayed his ponytail as he crossed the broad bridges that connected the mountaintops.

He'd walked maybe a quarter of a mile before something caught his eye though. As he passed by a bustling restaurant his path came to crossroads as three different walkways veered off to the north, south and east. Normally he'd carry on east towards his house, yet he noticed a familiar squad making their way across the northern bridge. He'd studied with about four of the dozen ninja as a child and knew them all as reputably powerful. One of them he'd spoken to more recently.

Ruki Jenbo led the group, the same girl he'd grown knowing, and the same ninja who'd covered his back and supported his actions a few months ago when the whole incident between Shoryu and Zakari had come to its climax. He recognised her immediately even with the black mask covering half of her face. She was a medical ninja trained to the highest standards; incredibly powerful and hardly unattractive, a rare combination. It seemed strange seeing her lead a team that was clearly equipped for an A-Rank mission, but courtesy demanded that he go and say hello.

"Ruki! Ruki, hey!" he called over.

Reizo caught the eye of the young woman as their paths crossed and she immediately pulled down the face mask to start their conversation.

"Hey Reizo!" she said, beaming. "Been a while huh? I haven't seen you since we stuck up for that kid at those graduation exams; I hear you're training him now."

Reizo laughed. "Yeah, I got myself a young new squad. As much as I'd love to stick with you guys on those suicidal missions these kids just have too much potential to ignore. So where're you headed then?"

"Just got a new mission," Ruki explained, jerking her thumb back to a man carrying something concealed in a cloak of black cloth. "It's one of the Seven Swords of the Mist. It's been lost for decades now; we've been assigned to protect it whilst we deliver it back to the Land of Water."

"So many of you?" asked Reizo, scanning the group for a quick headcount.

"Well yeah, I mean it's the stuff of legends. I reckon there's a good bunch of people who'd just love to get their hands on one of these."

At her last sentence a terrible thought suddenly struck Reizo. Those clones, whatever they were, had come after the dragon egg, another artefact that had the potential for incredible power in the right hands. What if that wasn't the only thing they were after? The dragon egg paled in comparison to the value of one of the legendary Seven Swords. With a horrible feeling welling up inside his gut, Reizo leant in closer and lowered his voice to a murmur.

"Just be careful out there," he warned her.

"Why? What's up? It shouldn't be too hard a mission," she reasoned.

"Something happened on my last mission. I can't give you the specifics but it was pretty dangerous. After that I haven't been able to shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen. It's probably nothing, but just watch your back out there."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Heya guys! So that's the Raikage, I can't believe it's actually taken this long to introduce him, he's kind of an ass isn't he? I wanted him to be almost like King Robert Baratheon from Game of Thrones with his personality: relatively nice guy, but he's got a temper problem and he's a shit ruler. As for his appearance he's kinda like Ghandi xD I might draw a picture of him sometime since it's no major spoiler for me to say he's gonna come into it a bit more.

So Shoryu and co are going to the Chunin exams right after they go on another big trek. If you guys remember, the Cloud's version of the Forest of Death is the Island Turtle, so that should be interesting to write about. This next mission will only be about two chapters long as opposed to the egg one, so there isn't a huge wait before the Chunin exams.

Also I've got a nice surprise in store for you in the next chapter that I think you guys might like, so stay tuned!


	14. Chapter 14 Clash With Fire

Chapter 14: Clash with Fire

Shoryu hadn't even unpacked yet when Reizo knocked the next day and told him they were heading out again so soon. As usual, the boy was ecstatic; with his ambition to roam the world, seeing new places had been the highlight of his induction of his ranks into the ninja ever since that day all those months ago when he'd been given his headband. This time they were going southeast, through both the Land of Snow and the Land of Hot Water to the border where the Land of Fire began. There, Hidden Cloud ninja would retrieve the letter and carry it to the Tsuchikage another two countries away.

With his bruises beginning to heal and the sun on his back rather than a tonne of supplies, Shoryu enjoyed the walk far more than he did the last. A gentle breeze drifted across the land and the short grass underfoot made the trek an easy one. Kazuya seemed to talk more often as well; he still walked a few paces ahead, but he joined in on the conversation whenever topics came up that he deemed interesting.

Reizo told Squad Thirteen all about his meeting with the Raikage and his wrath when it came to the clone incident. When asked, he also told Shoryu and the others about the heated argument he'd had with his family. The boy couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt when he heard little to his surprise that the conference they'd held concerned him, and that Reizo had forfeited his position as a clansman for his sake. 'Introducing Reizo Kuroda' he'd said with enthusiasm, having taken on his mother's maiden name.

After hearing that, Shoryu wondered whether or not he should ask his mother for his father's surname. She might take it as an insult, but at the end of the day he wasn't a member of the clan and so had no business sticking with the name Aizawa. It moved Shoryu that Reizo had sacrificed so much for him; he knew right then that he couldn't have asked for a better sensei. When Shoryu told him that he didn't have to go to such extremes Reizo just modestly shrugged and told him not to worry. Of course, he neglected to tell them about the promise he'd made to his father about the Chunin exams. He didn't want to tell them until he knew for sure they were ready.

Reizo still feared for them; the Chunin exams were a dangerous and trying ordeal that many each year still continued to die from. Had he made the right call in rising to his father's taunt? Kazuya might've been able to take care of himself, but Ayako and Shoryu were another story. Still, whatever the result, the Chunin exams would work out well for them if they survived it. The three would be forced to spend time alone together and rely on each other more if they wanted to succeed. Teamwork rarely progressed quicker than when a group were constantly an inch away from danger.

They hadn't even reached the first border yet when the sun began to set over the Land of Lightning. Reizo assured them however that this was normal, and that tomorrow they'd probably cross the entirety of the Land of Snow before dusk. With the southern winds blowing strong and their dangerous proximity to the Land of Snow it began to get cold. Shoryu had the dragon light several fires to keep his blood warm as he fought Kazuya under the red glow of the setting sun.

The pair of them had agreed to keep training for the time being even though Reizo's deal had come to a close with the end of the last mission; Shoryu had practically begged it of Kazuya earlier in the day and he'd finally conceded, saying that he needed the practice. It was only later that Shoryu remembered the heart-to-heart he'd had with him in which he confessed to never having a sparring partner. After remembering that Shoryu realised that Kazuya's initial reluctance was just to save face; he couldn't let the other two see that he was finally getting accustomed to the boy.

That night the samurai instructed Shoryu on how to effectively attack without showing openings or shifting his weight too much. It had been a problem Shoryu admitted was one of his worst; in fact the reason for his wielding two swords instead of one was purely because he didn't have a firm enough centre of balance to pull off a single blade. At the very least he'd progressed tonight, blitzing out skilled attacks as they danced in the small clearing of a nearby forest.

The more and more he'd practiced the faster and harder his strikes had become. In the space of just a week his muscles had developed beyond their natural size to a state where he could flex or look in the mirror and feel relatively proud of himself. He was still not quite so toned as Kazuya, but he was impressed nonetheless.

By the time they finished Shoryu's joints were stiff as swords and his hip ached from where he'd mistimed a blow and received a whack from Kazuya as punishment. He flopped to the earthy, pine littered floor next to one of the three fires and rewarded himself for his efforts by helping himself to a bottle of water. Shoryu tossed the bottle over to Kazuya as the boy sat down opposite him with his back pressed to a tree. It was warm and tasted funny after being left beside the blaze for so long, but any refreshment was good after such a session.

"You thought up of a name for him yet then?" probed the samurai, turning his eyes to the happy little dragon that wandered across the forest floor and licked at his hand.

Shoryu shrugged. "Sort of – I originally thought about being generic and putting the character for 'dragon' in his name,"

"But that's already in your name," said Kazuya.

"Exactly; big coincidence when you think about it isn't it? Anyway I don't have anyone to name him after and I'm completely unoriginal, so I've been calling him Kyoh for the last two days."

"Kyoh?" Kazuya tilted his head. "What does that mean?"

Shoryu shrugged again. "It doesn't really mean anything; it's one of the few words he says a lot and he seemed to like it, so I'm sticking with it unless I think of anything better."

"_Kyoh!_" agreed the dragon.

"Sounds dumb," remarked the samurai.

"Alright then _you_ think of something."

Kazuya spent a few moments in silence as he tried his best to think of a cool name to fit the cutesy little creature that kept grabbing his sleeve and tugging it in an attempt to get him to play. Eventually he shook his head. "Nope, can't think of anything," he resigned.

"It's hard isn't it?"

"Surprisingly. Anyway did you ask your mother about Kamiko?"

Shoryu lowered his head in defeat upon remembering the brief conversation he'd had the previous day. "Yeah," he explained. "But I got nowhere. My dad had a brother and a sister so she could be the daughter of either of them. I did learn that he was a summoner though; I never actually knew his fighting style before."

"A summoner? I didn't even know you could prioritise summoning jutsu as an offensive technique."

"That's exactly what I thought!" Shoryu agreed. The two allowed themselves a quiet laugh until the boy continued, "So we're heading southeast. Isn't your village nearby?"

"Yes." Kazuya nodded his head with a look of regret. "Normally we'd pass right by it, but Reizo-sensei seems to be taking us on a route where our path crosses it. I doubt it's a coincidence."

"That sounds like Reizo-sensei," said Shoryu. Taking a longer route on purpose to get Kazuya to meet up with his clan wouldn't be much of a stretch for the Jonin.

"Indeed. But about that Shoryu, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. It's a shameful request and I wouldn't be saying this if there was any other way, but I only ask that you consi-" Halfway through his sentence and Kazuya stopped, as if something had caught his attention. His head jerked to the side like a startled prairie dog, to the unknown spaces of the dense woods that the light of the fire couldn't reach.

Shoryu followed his gaze; he hadn't heard a thing, but Kazuya had. The tell-tale rustling noise of a lurking ninja had sounded from the deep. Ayako or Reizo would've announced their arrival. After another minute Shoryu heard it too.

"We're not alone," Kazuya muttered, keeping his voice low as he casually groped for his double edged sword on the floor. If the samurai's intuitiveness wasn't proof enough then Kyoh's rumbling growl and wary stare at the darkened forest was.

"It could just be an animal. Are you sure?" Shoryu asked. He too kept the volume to a minimum to ensure the potential enemy didn't expect a thing. The last time he'd been in this situation Shoryu had fretted like a coward until the time had come to act, this time though he felt tense; exhilarated by the idea of a good fight. He reflected that maybe Kazuya's influence had rubbed off a bit _too _much on him as he reached for a windmill shuriken from his pouch along with a small, curious bottle that he now kept there for good measure.

"I'm sure. There's something out there," Kazuya confirmed.

By now Shoryu's heart rate had doubled. Knowing that a kunai or some strange jutsu could rush out of the darkness to claim his life at any second activated the fight or flight response that he'd read all about. Last time he'd chosen flight, but this time the will to fight guided him. He unscrewed the bottle and gently spilled its contents onto the folded shuriken, making sure to drench every inch of the metal.

As soon as he'd opened it Kazuya could smell exactly what substance he poured onto the weapon: oil. What it was for he had no idea until Shoryu coolly flipped the shuriken open to its large size and got to his feet, stretching out like a cat to hide his true intentions to any onlookers.

"I'll flush him out," he said quietly, yawning to avoid rousing suspicion. "Nine o'clock, right?"

"Three, no wait." Kazuya did the math. "Yeah, it's your nine o'clock."

"Alright. . ." Shoryu clicked his tongue loudly to force eye contact with the tiny dragon. Once he had it, he raised his voice; it was too late to turn back now. "_Kyoh!_" he ordered loudly.

Upon his command the beast rushed over, and in less than a second he'd jumped up and coughed a small fire onto the shuriken, igniting the oil and setting it aflame as Shoryu hurled it with all his might into the darkness to his left. Lighting up the forest as it went, the windmill shuriken spun with a dazzling fire until it stuck two inches into the base of a large tree. A shadow danced in the firelight; the ninja's cover was blown. Knowing that he couldn't hide anymore, the shadow ran with all the speed of a Jonin towards their small encampment, right into the path of Shoryu's trio of hand signs.

"_Wind Style! Air Slash Stream!"_ he cried.

Countless arcs of wind rushed from the sign of the bird, carving up deep wallows in the trees and chopping up thousands of leaves to form a cascading storm of green upon the forest. After sustaining two cuts the ninja fled upwards. He darted from tree to tree faster than Shoryu's hands could follow before flipping up and over the very tops to land square in the middle of the clearing.

He was good; better than either of them. Of all the ninja he'd come across, Shoryu knew that only Reizo would've been able to counter that strategy so effectively and turn it into an advance. Now that he was illuminated by the three fires Shoryu could finally see this enemy ninja's appearance.

He was a young man no older than twenty, clad in a dark blue combat outfit with white pants and shuriken holsters strapped to every other limb. Like the two of them he wore a forehead protector, a sign that he came from a shinobi village. Being a samurai, Kazuya would never have been able to identify the exact village that this ninja came from, but Shoryu knew the symbol better than any. This man was from the Land of Fire, a ninja sent from the Village Hidden in the Leaves. His hair of a deep raven was spiked at an odd angle and his eyes had the colour of two pieces of coal, eyes that looked older than his true years.

On both his right arm and his sleeve there was a clan insignia: a red fan leaking into the lower portion of white. Shoryu could've sworn he'd seen the symbol somewhere before, but he had no time to put a name to it as the ninja came rushing his way with a punch connecting to his cheek before he had time to draw a sword. He staggered, almost to the floor.

Shoryu couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't been finished off until he regained his composure and looked around; Kazuya had intercepted him, dragging the nameless ninja into a close-quarters battle with the sword of his ancestor. Shoryu couldn't help but smile; the ninja wouldn't have expected a samurai when he lunged into close range – he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Yet as skilled as Kazuya was, this ninja bested him at every turn. The samurai spun attack after attack his way, using every inch of the double bladed weapon and breaking out moves so technical that Shoryu couldn't even dream of pulling them off. Not one of them hit. As swift as a puma the Hidden Leaf ninja darted between every slash, meeting every three with a solid punch or a kick.

Kazuya moved in closer, upping his speed with a quick burst of his time manipulation dojutsu and bringing the sword down in a wheeling motion. The ninja sidestepped gracefully, albeit with more difficulty. Now he had Kazuya off his guard, allowing him to deliver three swift consecutive punches to his midsection before flipping back into a kick that sent the samurai to the ground.

Shoryu's turn had arrived. If Kazuya had been beaten so easily he knew that challenging the Hidden Leaf ninja in close combat was a bad idea. With Kyoh hopping up onto his shoulders he let loose a single hand sign, sending a burning blade of curved wind across the grass.

"_Flaming Air Slash!_" he cried.

The blazing arc scorched the ground beneath it as it careered through the air towards its target. Shoryu's fist had already clenched in triumph upon seeing how accurate his blast had been, yet still the ninja evaded with a swift roll away from danger. Shoryu whipped out the second shuriken and hurled it his way, only to have the weapon impossibly _caught_ by the insane reflexes of the enemy ninja.

"That technique you had was interesting. Fire style was it?" he asked coolly, his black eyes flickering under the firelight.

Shoryu growled in frustration, watching the giant shuriken spin from its centre to a stop upon the man's fingers. He wanted nothing more than to correct the Leaf ninja and tell him that the Flaming Air Slash was actually a wind technique imbued with the power of fire. The ninja formed the tiger seal ahead of him; now he'd receive a _real _fire style attack. The ninja sucked in a great mouthful of air, filling his lungs and chest out to twice their normal size before he expelled it in one great burst.

"_Fireball Jutsu!_"

"_Wind Style: Galeforce Jutsu!_" Shoryu retaliated. His hands were shaking already with the excitement of the battle rushing to his head. Quick thinking on his part meant that the ninja's enormous bowling ball of fire was sucked into the five foot tornado summoned by the wind user. With the combination of wind and flame the typhoon billowed out with a great explosion, spitting tongues of fire onto the forest floor and threatening to set the whole wood alight. Shoryu's marvel at his own genius was his downfall; he spent so much time watching the flaming vortex that he failed to see the Leaf ninja dash behind him, again forming the sign of the tiger.

"_Fire Style: Flamethrower!_"

This time Shoryu knew for sure it was over. He should've pre-empted his opponent and acted sooner, but with the broad stretch of napalm coming his way it was now too late. He might survive, but he'd be burned forever from the unbearable heat of this powerful jutsu. He covered his face with his hands for good measure, fearing for his life right up until Kazuya's voice called out nearby.

"_Ice Style: Frozen Wall!_"

Just when Shoryu figured his life was at an end a great, two foot thick barrier of ice rose up from the ground before him. He saw it melt with the heat as an orange hue glowed through the wall, the fire bearing down all its heat in its assault upon the wall. By the time the flames subsided, only a steaming pile of water drenched Shoryu's feet, but he'd been saved. He looked to his left to see that Kazuya had both hands pressed to the floor not far away.

He rose back to his feet quicker than Shoryu had ever seen before, revealing the spiral pattern that had taken the place of his pupils. He must've used the time to add more hand signs into the jutsu, for when he advanced with sword in hand his run was a blur that Shoryu could hardly follow. Twenty five hand signs had been executed; Kazuya was at his maximum speed. Shoryu had only ever seen it once, when he was on the receiving end of it the day he met Kazuya.

It looked as impressive now as it did back then. The flourish of Kazuya's sword left wavering afterimages as he chased down the Leaf Ninja, pushing him back into resorting everything he had into his defence. The ninja fled to the trees and Kazuya soon followed as he hacked away at every branch the enemy stood upon. In spite of the samurai's newfound speed though, the ninja still managed to evade. He was shown no quarter in which to counter, but he hung in there. Shoryu took his chance.

Throwing his last shuriken up into the trees, the boy executed a number of hand signs and began the Shuriken Sway Jutsu. With his chakra manifested as wind Shoryu used it to pressure lightly on the surface of the four-pointed star to send it spinning up into the lofty rafters of the forest chasing after the duelling pair. As Shoryu finally angled it towards the Leaf Ninja something impossible happened: he saw only the flash of a kunai knife flip into the man's hand as he batted the shuriken away as if it was a mere annoyance, continuing to ascend upwards in his attempt to flee Kazuya.

It wasn't over yet though; Shoryu still had control over the soaring blade and with every move Kazuya got closer and closer to hitting his target. Using all his focus Shoryu pulled at the shuriken as hard as he could with his chakra like the leash of a persistent dog. Eventually he managed to set it on a different path, arching up and over the very tops of the trees before it came down at even greater speeds for another pass. At that very moment the ninja leapt from his safe haven amongst the branches, flipped like an acrobat in the air and landed flawlessly back at the very centre of the encampment.

Shoryu's mouth tightened into a grin. _Perfect_, he nearly said aloud. Right above him the shadow of the shuriken pooled at his feet, growing and growing as it got closer and closer to him. If the ninja saw it he paid it no attention; his eyes were focused upwards, watching with a concentrated look as Kazuya plummeted down after him. They had him now; if Shoryu's shuriken didn't get him then Kazuya would open him from shoulder to hip with a single slash of his blade. Side by side they descended as Kazuya joined the shuriken in free fall. Shoryu saw the gleam of steel in the growing firelight moments before the Leaf ninja smiled and closed his eyes.

"Guess I've no choice then," Shoryu heard him mutter.

With his last words uttered, the two attacks struck less than a second later. He saw for his own eyes the shuriken that lay inches from skewering his head and the two-sided sword that came down even harder. He expected the splatter of blood as metal bit into flesh and ended the ninja's life once and for all.

Instead he heard a strange clash as the attacks bounced away.

In a blast of energy the strange ninja's immediate surroundings suddenly warped into a pale lavender aura, shrouded by chakra so potent that it was visible to the naked eye. Around him the ribcage of some hellish skeletal monstrosity had formed within that aura, encasing him in its protective embrace and making sure that any attacks rebounded. The shuriken sailed into the night and Kazuya was sent spinning into the trunk of a nearby tree that splintered and cracked under the force of the impact.

"_Kazuya!_"

Shoryu's excitement had faded as quickly as it came upon him. Whatever kind of abominable jutsu this was, it was way beyond his level. Both attacks combined hadn't even chipped a single crumb of bone from the impenetrable defence that surrounded the Leaf Ninja. The worst part of it all was that Shoryu got a horrible feeling that they'd only just scratched the surface of this terrible power. Already he could see the bony outline of a skeletal hand that stomped the ground to his right, followed by the impression of two enormous eyes some ten metres above.

Finally the ninja reopened his eyes. The moment he did so, Shoryu recognised exactly where he'd seen the man's clan symbol before.

A jagged black pinwheel surrounded by eyes the colour of blood stared out at him more intensely than any glare he'd ever received before, and Shoryu had been on the opposite end of many glares in his life. There was no doubt about it now; this was the Mangekyo Sharingan, the highest form of the trademark dojutsu of the Uchiha. Shoryu knew that the clan had flourished and been allowed to grow again since the war, but never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd meet one in person, let alone fight one with such an advanced strain of the Sharingan.

This man must've been a descendant from the same Uchiha who'd fought in the Fourth Shinobi World War - the friend, rival and enemy to the legendary Sixth Hokage. If that was the case Shoryu knew he didn't have a chance. The pinwheels of his eyes spun wildly as he prepared to unleash another devastating attack on the thirteen year old boy. Shoryu closed his eyes and prepared to die for the second time that day, and yet death never came. Instead he heard a whir as the Sharingan powered down followed by quick footsteps as the Uchiha bounded over to him and seized him by the scruff of his shirt.

"_Tell me what it means!_" the man bellowed, having just noticed something important.

Shoryu stammered; with those charcoal black eyes looking so accusing and the memory of that overwhelming jutsu still fresh in his mind he found that he'd lost the basic ability of speech. "W-What? I don't – I don't und-understand!" he finally managed.

"What don't you understand? It's plain and simple! _THIS _thing! _What is it? _Tell me and I might just spare your life."

Shoryu looked down, and to his horror he finally saw where the ninja was pointing. It was the violet symbol of two crescents bowing into each other, the mark on his jacket; his father's jacket. He'd seen it on Kamiko Honami and even the clone they'd interrogated seemed to recognise it. "I – I don't understand!" he cried again once the Uchiha pressed him for an answer. "How do you know about that mark?"

Without a word the Uchiha lifted the sleeve of his shirt to reveal that same sigil inked into his arm, just like Kamiko. He said, "Don't act like you don't know! I've had it my entire life. A few years ago I met a boy named Tomeo Honami who had the same mark – _he _couldn't tell me about it either. Then last week, when _your _people attacked us, one of you ninja knew of it. He said he was 'surprised I hadn't been taken yet', and then he killed himself. So cut the act and tell me what it means!"

"Look, I don't know!" Shoryu waved his hands around in protest as a thousand thoughts went around in his head. Who was Tomeo Honami? Was he Kamiko's brother? And what did the Uchiha mean when he said the Cloud Village had attacked the Leaf? Whatever the case, Shoryu knew he had to excuse himself before he was killed. "This was my father's jacket, I don't know anything about it! He died before I was born."

"_Liar_." Again Shoryu found himself staring into the eyes of the Mangekyo Sharingan as it spun to life, replacing his irises. If he didn't give him information then Shoryu would be dead, of that he was sure. Even so, he had nothing to give; he wanted answers just as badly and yet none were to be found.

"Kiyoshi! Ease off!" called a voice from the shadows.

"Shoryu! Kazuya! Are you alright?" said a second. Shoryu felt his stomach do a somersault; he was saved. The second voice belonged to none other than Reizo.

"He's a Hidden _Cloud_ ninja," the Uchiha spat back into the darkness, clutching the collar of Shoryu's shirt even tighter. "How can you even say that?"

"Kiyoshi, we just met up with the rest of his cell. Their leader is a man named Reizo Yukizawa." As the first voice spoke again Shoryu noticed its origin as a broad chested man with a stout goatee walked into the firelight with Reizo in tow, followed by Ayako and close to a dozen Leaf ninja. Reizo didn't bother correcting the ninja on his new surname; now wasn't the time.

"I don't care what his name is!" cried Kiyoshi Uchiha.

"But I do, and I'm the squad commander here so you'll do as I say! Reizo is an old friend of mine; we served together many years ago. He's an honourable man – I don't believe he had anything to do with the attack on your squad. I doubt he even knows about it. We should at least hear him out," reasoned the Leaf commander.

With a final snarl at Shoryu, Kiyoshi released the scruff of his shirt and got back to his feet. "This isn't over, I want answers," he muttered under his breath.

With kunai and readied hand signs pointed at them from every angle, Reizo and Ayako were surrounded at the centre of the encampment, forced to keep their hands held high where they could do no damage. Ayako was trembling; clearly the same adrenaline that had taken over Shoryu hadn't found her quite so easily.

"I think I've gotten the gist of this supposed attack, so let's see if I can fill in the blanks," Reizo began, speaking coolly as though he'd been threatened with death a thousand times before. He turned to his old friend from the Land of Fire. "Tairo, listen to me, I'm no liar. I'm going to go ahead and assume a squad of yours were already out on a mission when the ninja from the Village Hidden in the Clouds attacked you."

Tairo narrowed his eyes in confusion, turning nervously to the rest of his cell.

"These ninja, were they clones?" Reizo asked. "Shadow Clones, more advanced than any kind of clone you'd ever seen before. They required a fatal blow to kill them – does this ring any bells?"

"He's right!" called a ninja with a shuriken.

"He knows what happened because he was involved in it!" Kiyoshi accused as he drew a knife.

"Calm down Kiyoshi!" roared Tairo the squad commander. "You heard him Reizo: how _did _you know all that?"

Still keeping his hands calmly raised, the Jonin spoke slowly and carefully. "The same thing happened to us: a group of supposed Stone ninja from the Land of Earth attacked our group no less than a week ago in exactly the same way that I described." As carefully as he dared Reizo lowered his hand to his pouch. He heard the chink of metal as ninja all around him tightened their grip on their weapons, preparing themselves for an attack. "Easy," Reizo said as he finally retrieved the Raikage's letter from his pack. "This is a note from our Kage to the Tsuchikage, demanding to know what happened and whether he had anything to do with it. I know now that it's probable that the Land of Earth had nothing to do with the attack on my squad, just like _we _had nothing to do with the attack on yours."

After a few long moments the Leaf commander finally spoke. "Alright lower your weapons," he ordered the others. "Reizo is an honourable man – I don't take him for a liar."

Reizo breathed a sigh of relief as each of the surrounding ninja put away their miscellaneous projectiles, even Kiyoshi Uchiha. Ayako meanwhile looked as though she was about to faint. The three campfires and the random blazes that dotted the floor where Kiyoshi and Shoryu had burned them seemed to simmer down with the mood. Now that they'd finally talked their way out of danger Shoryu used the time to rush over to Kazuya's side, still slumped next to the tree he'd been thrown into.

He looked exhausted; the chakra that the highest level of his dojutsu ate up was staggering. Add that to the fact that he'd just been thrown against a tree so hard that it nearly paralysed him and you had a pitiful looking Kazuya. In spite of his condition he told Shoryu not to worry about him as both turned their eyes to the conversation still unfolding.

"Tairo," Reizo started again. "I've explained myself, now it's time for you to do the same. What are you doing here? Why did your squad attack us without warning?"

Tairo suddenly looked ashamed, as if he'd somehow disgraced himself. "Forgive me Reizo; I should've seen through it as you did. I should've known we were being played right from the start. It's just. . . When Kiyoshi's group was slaughtered, the Hokage opted to do nothing in retaliation. We took matters into our own hands."

"The Hokage is a pacifist fool," chided Kiyoshi from the sidelines.

"Pacifist maybe, but the twelfth is no fool," Reizo corrected him. "At least you see it now Tairo. We've all been set up and turned against each other. We don't have much to go on, but I _do _know one thing though: a Kage has to be behind these attacks; one of them is trying to start a war. If these attacks are happening all over the world then we just need to figure out the village that hasn't been ambushed – then we'll have our culprit. If we don't do it soon it'll be too late. I'll send this letter to the Tsuchikage as instructed, but after that I'll return to the Raikage and beg him to call a summit conference. I'd urge you to do the same thing with the Hokage."

Tairo chewed his lip and nodded meekly. Shoryu could tell he was a headstrong, proud man, but he listened to reason when it mattered. Reizo had made the best outcome imaginable; he'd not only managed to get them out of danger, he'd actually made his attacker agree with him and conform to his way of thinking, gaining another follower in his cause.

"These are dark times we live in Reizo. After that attack I've already been hearing whispers of a 'Fifth Shinobi World War'," Tairo said.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Tairo nodded. "Aye, so we'll be on our way then. We won't trouble you no more, and we'll tell the same to the rest of the village."

"Give me a minute alone with this 'Shoryu'," ordered Kiyoshi. He turned back to the boy with a menacing stare that made him fight to hide his nervousness. Those same eyes could transform at any second into the Mangekyo Sharingan, one of the greatest weapons used in the Fourth World War. Tairo and Reizo each looked to one another with a glance of apprehension, neither knowing whether or not it was a good idea.

"Shoryu, do you agree?" checked Reizo.

After a few seconds Shoryu nodded. Part of it was the pressure of those intense black orbs boring into him, but another side of him wanted answers, and to get them he'd have to dance with the devil. Nothing good would come without risk.

"Alright," said Tairo, "But Kiyoshi, if any of that boy's blood gets spilled you'll have both me and Reizo to answer to. You might be powerful kid but you can't take us both on."

"It's fine; I won't hurt him," the Uchiha replied.

"You'd better not."

With his final warning spoken, Tairo and his band of ninja turned back into the forest heading west. Reizo and Ayako made their way over to Kazuya and tried to lift him to his feet, yet the samurai was too proud for that. With a wordless protest he pushed them away and dragged himself back to his feet. Nothing but sheer willpower kept Kazuya Takashi on his feet as he straightened himself out with a hand on his back and staggered back to camp.

Shoryu knew just from the look on his face that the mere half a mile's walk would be like crossing the entire Land of Lightning to him. At least he was safe though; tomorrow he'd be almost fully recovered and Shoryu along with him, if he survived the encounter with Kiyoshi Uchiha. Once they were alone the ninja reached out a hand that made Shoryu flinch until he realised that Kiyoshi was actually helping him to his feet.

He accepted it gingerly and allowed Kiyoshi to pace around the camp as the coal of his eyes burned and glistened under the flicker of the flames around him. The Uchiha was deep in thought; a solemn, brooding quality that his kind was known for. A squawk from Kyoh suddenly told Shoryu it was time to send the creature away.

"I feel I owe you an apology," Kiyoshi said at last. "I've been on edge since the incident with the clones; two of my clansmen died you see. . ."

Shoryu couldn't believe his ears; he was actually receiving an apology from an Uchiha. If stories from the last war were to be believed they were hardly renowned for being humble.

"I've been blind to reason this past week. It's unbecoming. Since the war the Uchiha haven't exactly been given a great name. I vowed to try and help restore the full honour of my family, but this isn't exactly the best way to do that - I've just been so frustrated by that mark lately."

"You and me both," Shoryu agreed.

"Tell me about yourself," ordered Kiyoshi as he paced back and forth impatiently. "Maybe then I'll have some clues about that symbol."

Shoryu wanted to ask the exact same question, though courtesy demanded he speak first. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "There isn't much to tell I'm afraid. My mother is from the Zawa clan and my father died before I was born, like I said. There's nothing extraordinary about me; in fact I was born without the Kekkei Genkai of my clan if that makes my story anymore pathetic," remembering the Mangekyo, Shoryu added, "I bet that's pretty different for you."

"It is," agreed Kiyoshi. He stopped pacing slowly and cast his eyes to the floor, looking remorseful as if some distant memory pained him. However it was no memory; it was a story, something his mother had told him a long time ago. "My mother is Etsuyo Uchiha, eight generations descended from the ancient Sasuke who fought in the war. A while ago, she told me something terrible: the way I was born. She was a young woman of twenty or so, walking along the streets of the village one day when she ran into a man.

"She couldn't remember what this man said or looked like, only that it was the last memory she had before she woke up back at her house one day with me in her arms. Time had passed for her in an instant. She couldn't remember anything from it, but her clansmen told her that she'd been gone for a whole year; she'd vanished without a trace and come back the same way as if no more than a second had gone by. She could tell from the changes in her body that she'd had a baby: me, the tiny Uchiha with the strange tattoo on his arm."

Shoryu was shocked by the ninja's horrific tale. Whoever this man was he spoke of; whoever had the capacity to do something so horrible to another must've been evil beyond all measure. He pitied Kiyoshi for being born in such a way. "It sounds like your mother was put under genjutsu," he said. "Powerful genjutsu at that."

"Most definitely, but that's not where my story ends," Kiyoshi revealed. "When I was eight years old my team and I were assigned to a C-Rank mission; it was a simple mission, to protect a man as he travelled from one border of the land to the other."

Shoryu couldn't help but pout in disappointment. This guy had made Genin at eight years old – five years earlier than him.

Kiyoshi continued, "The man never mentioned that he had a bounty of three million ryo on his head. My team and I were ambushed by half a dozen rogue Jonin who'd come for the bounty. My squad leader was cut down first, and then my friends followed. Then when the rogues turned for me, something strange happened: I was an inch from death, looking down the length of a kunai knife headed straight for my skull when the Sharingan awoke. . . The Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan."

The shorter ninja from the Cloud tilted his head in confusion. Had he been reading the wrong books as a child? Had the Sharingan of the legendary Uchiha clan not been quite as well documented as he thought? The last war had seen it in all its glory, hadn't it? He voiced his thoughts. "Hang on a second. I thought that the Mangekyo Sharingan alone took years of training to acquire?" He thought back even further. "And if you want an everlasting one, don't you have to get an operation or something? A transplant, right? From another member of the clan."

"That's right, you do, normally. With me it was different. I never had to train to acquire my Mangekyo and my eyes have not bled once in a decade of using it. Even the veterans of my clan couldn't explain it, but I think it has something to do with my father; it's the only thing that makes sense. It could be a Kekkei Genkai, or he could've experimented on my mother or something whilst I was still inside her. If I eventually find out that's the truth, I'll hunt him down and use this power to destroy him for what he did for her."

Not for the first time Kiyoshi's eyes flashed a dangerous set of intersecting pinwheels on a red backdrop, and Shoryu had no doubt that he'd do what he swore. Even in spite of the tragic fate that had befallen Etsuyo Uchiha, Shoryu couldn't help but feel envious of her son Kiyoshi. They were linked by that same symbol that connected their fathers in some way; Shoichi had it stitched into his jacket and Kiyoshi's nameless father had tattooed it into his son's arm, just like both Kamiko and this 'Tomeo' Honami.

On the one hand Kiyoshi had been blessed with the power of the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan, the highest form of ocular power even more famous than the Rinnegan or the Kanzen Raikyogan. On the other hand, Shoryu had been cursed by having his birth right taken away; by being the only one in his bloodline for generations to never even possess the most basic strain of his family's dojutsu.

The two talked and talked for another hour or so, trying to get to know one another in an attempt to find out more about the mark of their fathers. Shoryu told Kiyoshi about Kamiko Honami and how the clone had also recognised his own mark as well. During the conversation he couldn't help but recognize something strange: the two people he'd met so far with the purple symbol etched into their arms were some of the most singularly skilled people he'd ever met. Kamiko had advanced well beyond her years in taijutsu and Kiyoshi had the Eternal Mangekyo from the moment his Sharingan activated.

Thinking this, he asked Kiyoshi whether or not this 'Tomeo' he'd met also had some kind of special power. Of course in keeping with Shoryu's recent luck, Kiyoshi couldn't comment; he'd never seen the boy in action. Still, it did raise the interesting question of where these traits had come from. A form of Kekkei Genkai or some kind of pre-birth experimentation were both equally plausible explanations as Kiyoshi had already said.

After an hour and a half had passed the broad Jonin commander with the goatee, Tairo, came striding through the forest to meet them.

"Kiyoshi, hurry it up, we need to get back to the village," he ordered.

Kiyoshi nodded. "We were just finishing up here anyway," he replied. Suddenly the man extended a hand of thanks, and Shoryu took it, confident that he'd made his first foreign ally in his long career as a ninja, even if he had tried to attack him first. And it wasn't just any ally; he'd befriended an Uchiha, a member of one of the most powerful clans in existence. "I hope we meet again Shoryu," added Kiyoshi. "And I hope you find your answers."

Shoryu nodded politely. "You too Kiyoshi, take care."

And just like that, the ninja were gone, disappearing as swiftly and silently as they had approached. Shoryu felt a tingling sensation race up his fingers after having stood in the presence of such a warrior. He set off back to camp quickly, making his way through the dense forest and back to where they'd set up the tent just a mile or so east of the low road that cut straight through the Land of Lightning

He let out a long yawn and looked up at the stars as the fresh pine beneath him turned to the frosted green grass of the Land of Lightning. They were close to the Land of Snow; and even closer to the Village Hidden in the Glacier according to Kazuya, the village where he'd grown up and would one day rule as the Taisho. Shoryu wondered whether Reizo would take them through there and force Kazuya into an awkward conversation with his family.

It was already night when Kiyoshi had attacked them; now it was pitch black. The fire that Reizo had no doubt used his fire jutsu for had long since melted away into embers, though the voices of Squad Thirteen still sounded from the tent. Reizo, Ayako and Kazuya were still up, talking and snacking until Shoryu returned. The boy swept back the tarp and made his way inside.

"We were beginning to think he'd killed and buried you out there," said Kazuya plainly.

"Why? Did you want the honour for yourself?" Shoryu joked.

"Naturally."

"So what did he tell you?" questioned Ayako.

For the next half hour or so Shoryu spent his time explaining everything that had gone on during his talk with the Uchiha, everything from that strange mark that kept cropping up to the boy's origin and upbringing. The three listened intently and offered opinions wherever they had them.

"If those clones really did recognise the symbol on both occasions then it's possible your fathers or their families could have something to do with the attacks on villages," Reizo offered once he'd finished.

Shoryu didn't want to face that possibility, but it had cropped up in his mind all the same; the notion that the man who'd kidnapped and impregnated Etsuyo Uchiha against her will was involved in the attacks certainly seemed plausible enough, but his own father? Whenever Yuuko spoke of his father she portrayed him as a good, kind-hearted man who'd never hurt a fly unless it attacked him first. More and more Shoryu was beginning to doubt that idea. The symbol Shoichi had stitched to his jacket seemed to personify evil, treason and deception, yet taking it off would be missing a vital opportunity to learn information in case more people like Kiyoshi Uchiha recognised it.

As Squad Thirteen moved onto lighter topics the team dropped off one by one. Reizo was the first to go, resting his eyes at first before dropping off into an uneasy sleep accompanied by a soft snore. Ayako was next; in fact Shoryu had no idea how long she'd been asleep when he finally realised she'd gone, as the girl seemed to have a tendency to talk in her sleep. She would unconsciously mutter generic replies and hums of agreement, giving the others the impression she was awake until one of her answers cut Kazuya off in midsentence.

The two spared a laugh at this before the awkward silence fell. Outside the whistle of the high winds and the mellow crumbling of the fire's ashes were the only noises that sounded. Shoryu couldn't help but remember that Kazuya had tried to ask him something before Kiyoshi had ambushed them. Now that he'd had time to think on it Shoryu knew exactly what he was about to say, though asking him about it proved difficult. Fortunately Kazuya himself brought it up.

"Shoryu," he said at last, fixing the boy with a hard stare that required nerve to meet. "Before the Leaf attacked, I wanted to ask you something. As a samurai there's no greater shame for me, but I just have to-"

"Then don't ask. I'll do it," said Shoryu.

Kazuya's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But I didn't even ask anything yet," he reasoned.

"You want me to take the Chunin exams with you, right?" Shoryu correctly guessed. "It's the only thing that makes sense – the other day you mentioned that your clan needs money and it grows even more impatient by the day." The boy stretched out his arms and continued nonchalantly. "If you make Chunin you'd be able to take on tougher missions with a higher reward."

Kazuya looked astounded by his deduction, but when it was his turn to speak he frowned again. Separating a samurai from his honour seemed like an impossible task, even after he'd joined the ranks of the ninja. "I don't want your pity," he muttered sourly.

"Pity?" Shoryu made a face, genuinely offended by the boy's remark. "I'm not doing this out of pity you idiot. I'm helping you out because I'm your friend, or does friendship mean nothing to the samurai?"

"Is that why you took a dive in the stream test the other day?"

Shoryu grinned. "I take it Ayako mentioned my attempt to you them? I didn't want to offend you," he reasoned. "Anyway if I ever want to travel the world someday I'll need more ryo than a Genin's pay, so I guess I should take the Chunin exams sooner rather than later. From what I hear Ayako's family are pushing her to do the test as well. She's also got the skills and she's confident enough so I doubt we'll have any trouble convincing her too."

Still taken aback, Kazuya sighed and couldn't help but crack a rare smile. "I don't really know what to say," he confessed.

"No need to thank me, just forget about it and go to sleep; no cheesy moments, alright?"

The samurai laughed as Ayako let out another mumble of agreement in her sleep.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: What? An Uchiha? Hell yes! I'm going to presume now that by the end of Naruto, Sasuke is still alive, giving him the capacity to go out and make little baby Uchihas and restore his clan as he intended to from the beginning (though hopefully not with Sakura). If he doesn't survive then maybe I'll just create some kind of loophole and say that he knocked up some girl in the tiny period of time after he escaped from Orochimaru.

Before anyone asks, the Uchiha won't be playing a vital role in Legacies – they'll just be mentioned every now and again. Kiyoshi himself will have a bigger role in the future of course. Also if any of you are wondering: Kiyoshi is the only one descended from Sasuke Uchiha, Shoryu is not; he shares no blood with him. And no, Shoryu isn't the descendant of anyone in Naruto either - I wanted to keep it original where the main cast is concerned. Although in case you haven't figured yet, his family and heritage will play a massive role. It's called 'Legacies' for a reason ;)

There have been a few names dropped in this chapter, some of which are relevant, some of which aren't. Kyoh (the dragon) is the only one which, as Shoryu said, doesn't mean anything at all. He said something about him wanting to give the dragon a name with the character for 'dragon' in it, but he didn't want to because it's already in his own name. This is a reference to the fact that the 'ryu' in Shoryu's name means dragon. As for the other names:

Kiyoshi means 'Pure'

Etsuyo means 'A generation of delight'

Tomeo means 'Cautious Man'

Some might actually come into it (like whether their names are fitting or ironical) but others won't, I just picked them because they sounded cool. There's a lot of names being thrown about huh? I've got a family tree in a folder somewhere that I'll upload sometime during Volume 2 – it explains really simply how Shoryu is connected to all these different people like Kiyoshi and Kamiko, but uploading it now would just be spoiling it.


	15. Chapter 15 Glacier Village

Chapter 15: The Village Hidden in the Glacier

As always, Kazuya was the first to rise on the following day. He woke to the bitter chill of a midmorning mist as he got dressed into his usual, tight-fitted violet attire and headed out to pack up. Reizo's snores still drifted out of the open entrance when Shoryu awoke and joined the samurai outside the tent. Kazuya was so deep in thought as he stared southeast that he didn't realise the boy was there until he announced himself.

"Chilly day," Shoryu said, hugging his arms tightly as cold pimples of gooseflesh spread up them.

"The mist comes from my village; it must be only a few miles away from us now," answered the boy. The cold didn't bother him anymore; he'd grown up in the village where it was virtually always winter. Even when the rest of the Land enjoyed three months of summer the ice of the Village Hidden in the Glacier refused to thaw for any heat.

The pair enjoyed a quiet breakfast next to the damp bundle of wood that had been their fire last night. Once they'd finished a course of stale biscuits and cold chicken Ayako finally rose and met them outside. Today her hair flowed down almost to her shoulders, brushed neatly without any ties in a shade of soft blue like pale ice under sunlight. Kazuya noted the effort she'd gone to in order to make herself look prettier and the occasional look she'd give Shoryu, hoping for some kind of compliment.

Of course he also saw that Shoryu had noticed her new appearance and that he actually _wanted _to say something nice about it, though he was too awkward and embarrassed to form any words. Despite being raised away from shinobi principles of keen observation Kazuya saw these minor details in a heartbeat. Several seconds of silence passed before the samurai finally decided to raise the tension to score another point against his new rival.

"Shoryu thinks you look nice today," he said flatly.

The sudden statement caused Ayako to turn his way as she almost choked on her meal. "Excuse me?" she asked, pretending to have misheard him. The blush quickly streaking across her cheeks however told Kazuya she'd heard him perfectly.

"Ignore him, he's being a jerk," said Shoryu, giving Kazuya a glare.

Right before another argument could spark up between the two a rustling from the tent alerted them to Reizo's appearance. Being the first to fall asleep and the last to wake up he made his way out of the entrance, stretching out like a cat and giving a loud yawn to announce himself. His face was completely expressionless; either he'd heard nothing of the short conversation or he had the best poker face Kazuya had ever seen. Whatever the case, his arrival stopped the quarrel as quickly as it started.

"Alright, let's get down to business." He made his way over, though he never sat down, being eager to set off as soon as possible without anything to eat. "Kazuya, you've probably noticed already that I've took us along the southern pass, the one closest to your village. I wanted to give you the option of visiting any family you might have there, but it's up to you. I don't want to force anything on you. If you'd rather not go then I'll understand."

At least he was honest about his deception; Kazuya had to give him that. The boy considered for a few moments. He'd thought it over many times already, but he had to think about it one more time before he made his decision. Finally he realised that his wishes hadn't changed overnight. "Thank you sensei, but if it's all the same I'd rather give it a miss."

Reizo sighed, nodding his head. Behind those eyes Kazuya could see that his sensei was speaking from experience. He knew what it was like to have a difficult relationship with one's own family and he empathised with the boy, knowing that avoidance would only make everything worse. "In that case let's get going," he decided. "This letter won't deliver itself."

With that, Squad Thirteen set off along the crisp, crunching grass of the southern passage without any further delay. Within just two miles the frosted ground turned to light deposits of snow, and after another two they were almost ankle-deep in the stuff. Overcast clouds hung over the nearing border of the Land of Lightning, darkened and pregnant with snow that could fall at any time.

The moment he began to walk a sharp pain in Kazuya's back reminded him of his shameful defeat last night. His movements were sluggish to stop from aggravating it, though conversation would help take his mind off it.

Fresh mountain air filled their lungs and cleared their sinuses, and every mouthful felt like a refreshing glass of water going down parched throats. To the north snow-capped forests loomed uphill; to the east distant smoke from the chimneys of the neighbouring land rose up in countless columns, and to the south Kazuya could see the perilous slope where the snow thinned out and eventually became ice. Somewhere beyond the endless stretch of flat-light and slippery slopes lay the Village Hidden in the Glacier, the last place he wanted to be.

In spite of the cold Shoryu confessed that he loved it here. It was a stark contrast to the lofty mountains of his hometown and the sharp beige canyons they'd visited to the far north on their last C-Rank mission. Having crossed the southern passage many times Kazuya was no longer thrilled by the journey, though he couldn't help but admire Shoryu's newfound excitement.

As the snow thickened the two boys worked their way ten paces ahead of Ayako and Reizo. Shoryu drew a sword and began to swing practice shots at air whilst they walked, with Kazuya correcting him every now and again and retrieving his own to demonstrate. Evidently their training had evolved to the point where they even practiced on the move at Shoryu's request. It didn't do much in the long run, yet doing nothing but walking now frustrated Shoryu when there was so much he had to learn.

Kazuya actually enjoyed the tutelage until his sharp senses picked up on something he heard Ayako mutter under her breath behind them.

"Is it just me or are those two starting to _look_ like each other?" she said.

He felt Reizo's eyes on the back of his head as the Jonin looked over the two of them. Shoryu carried on swinging his offhand sword, oblivious to their secret conversation.

"You're imagining things," replied his sensei, much to the samurai's relief.

In actuality though, Ayako hadn't been far off the truth. The two had completely different hair colours and styles and Shoryu's eyes were bright and vivid where Kazuya's were dark and solemn, although beyond that the two Genin actually shared a little in common. Shoryu only stood barely an inch over Kazuya and their faces both shared a similar sharp and angular look. Their arms and legs were almost the same shape and length and broad shoulders were common in both of them, although Kazuya's were significantly wider thanks to his years of physical training.

It was an odd coincidence, but nevertheless something Ayako couldn't help notice as the two spent more and more time together. As a daily check she unravelled each coloured scroll strapped to the back of the belt, finding to her dismay that her yellow needed replenishing.

"I'm just gonna cut ahead for a while if that's okay," she excused. "I need to refill my scrolls."

"Go right ahead," Reizo allowed.

The girl jogged forward and passed the two boys, crossing Shoryu with an awkward look before she carried on and disappeared into the forest. Kazuya sported a rare smile as he noticed this.

"You just _had _to ruin it didn't you?" Shoryu spoke the moment she was out of sight.

"You should've said something to her," Kazuya advised. "Bring your arm up a bit."

Shoryu elevated his arm and swung again into thin air using his shorter blade. This resulted in a satisfied hum from the samurai, allowing Shoryu to continue the conversation. "Easy for you to say. Not all of us are betrothed to some beautiful village girl; some of us have to bide our time and wait for the opportune moment."

Kazuya laughed to himself. "Seriously? 'Opportune moment'? You're thirteen not thirty – she's not exactly going to attack you if you just say something nice about her hair, she likes you. Anyway why would you say my fiancé's beautiful? You've never met her."

"She's good looking in my head," Shoryu reasoned with a shrug. "Also when you told me about your village, the part where you mentioned her was the only part where you didn't look so damn glum. I figured she must be at least an eight or a nine."

Kazuya shook in disapproval. "That's just shallow. For all you know I could like her for her personality."

"Oh come off it, we're beings of nature. I'm not saying personality isn't important and all, but it's just impossible to be interested in someone we don't find physically attractive."

For the next half an hour the topic of looks versus personality, a debate with no right answer, raged on without stop as the two continued their walking exercise. Behind them Kazuya heard his sensei let out a prolonged sigh at their incessant bickering over something so trivial.

Before long it began to snow heavy, palm sized droplets to coat the ground with a fresh cover of the fluffy substance. That changed the subject; Shoryu had never actually seen a snow shower before and remained amazed by the incredible phenomena he'd missed out on. He picked up a small mass and curled it into a ball in his fists, though before he got any bright ideas he heard Kazuya's voice ahead of him call out.

"_Ice Style: Snowball!_"

A solid, wet globe hit Shoryu's face hard like a poor punch to the cheek, forcing him to drop the powdery substance and look back up to his rival. He jokingly mocked Kazuya for a while about how that might have been the worst jutsu he'd ever encountered, and in response the boy explained that it was the first technique warriors of his village learned to perfect their abilities in the ice style. Making snow was the first step; then in time snow turned to sleet and sleet eventually became solid ice.

Another half an hour passed before the team decided to take a break. They settled down to an early dinner, and before they even tucked in the mood was ruined once Reizo reminded them of their new dilemma: Ayako was still missing. It made little sense; she usually only took twenty minutes at the most to replenish a colour scroll, and now a whole hour had passed.

Even as he theorised that she might've had trouble finding buttercups and dandelions under all the snow Kazuya felt the words stick in his throat; he didn't believe it any more than Shoryu or Reizo did. She was probably lost, or worse. After their meal Squad Thirteen decided to head out and look for her right as a deep blue javelin of chakra streamed into the sky from the nearby forest.

Without saying a word Shoryu, Kazuya and Reizo jumped to their feet. Ayako's blue shading technique was unmistakeable; she must have gotten into some kind of fight and signalled them to come her way. Guided by the occasional crimson firework erupting from the site of battle the team made their way into the woods and through the trees as fast as their legs would allow them to without bashing into one. Reizo cut ahead of them quickly; it wasn't long before he was completely out of sight, leaving Shoryu and Kazuya in a heated race to see who got there first.

With a team member's life at stake the samurai reflected that it might have been a little extreme to be competitive at a time like this. He reckoned Shoryu must've felt the same way too, but nevertheless it helped them run that little bit faster. Another spark went up into the air that spurred the two on as they realised the battle must be close by. In fact they were so intent on judging who was in the lead that it took them a few seconds to realise they'd actually arrived.

At the centre of a small clearing, flashes of red and blue from Ayako's glowing palms blitzed their way across a ten metre stretch as her opponent retaliated with consecutive blasts of ice that forced the newly blue-haired ninja to throw up what little yellow defences she had left. Before he even saw Ayako's opponent Kazuya recognised the technique immediately, and his heart lurched at the thought of encountering one of his own.

It was the ice style, the Kekkei Genkai of the Takashi samurai clan of the Village Hidden in the Glacier. Fate had been cruel to him and forced him into this encounter right after he'd rejected it earlier in the morning; Kazuya wanted to run and hide more than anything else, but as he skidded to a stop in the narrow, snowy clearing he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the samurai attacking his teammate. Only it wasn't a samurai - not technically anyway.

The _girl_, for women within the villages of samurai had never been permitted to be warriors, stood tall for her age with jet black hair tied into a ponytail behind her head. Her eyes were as grey and cold as the clouds above, and her chosen outfit was a tight-fitted white tunic laced together with violet, contrasting against the sheathed red katana that hung by her belt. She was as beautiful as she was stubborn; now that he'd seen her Kazuya knew he would never forgive himself if he ran – at least it was her rather than some random clansman.

"_Fujiko?_" he muttered in disbelief. "Fujiko! What are you doing?"

The girl's eyes met Kazuya's, and with a gasp she immediately diffused the ice in her hands and dropped to one knee in fealty to him, sustaining a nasty burn to her arm in the process from Ayako's already fired red. But she paid it little attention; from the wide gash it blazed into her shoulder it must've pained her terribly, yet she only winced a little and kept her head lowered.

"Ayako! Lay off!" Kazuya ordered.

His teammate turned to him with a look of surprise, refusing to negate the swirling cloud of red chakra she'd formed in her hands. "Are you crazy?" Ayako asked. "She tried to kill me!"

"She's a member of my clan!"

"So I noticed!" snapped the girl. "But she still attacked me!"

"Just let me talk to her," Kazuya instructed, having not seen the girl in months.

Ayako sighed and reluctantly dissipated the attack back into paper as she made her way over to Shoryu. As always Kazuya noticed everything; that look Shoryu sent his way seemed to communicate that he knew about this strange new girl. The way Kazuya looked at her and spoke with her gave it all away: this was the girl he'd mentioned before; his fiancé, the eldest daughter of the current Taisho of his clan.

Using awkward, forced steps Kazuya padded over to his future wife. "Stand up Fujiko – you know I hate it when people address me like that," he ordered.

Fujiko got to her feet as commanded. With one hand she covered the wound on her arm, and with the other she undid the ponytail that kept her dark hair tied up, allowing it to cascade down past her shoulders and reveal her true beauty. Kazuya cringed; he'd embarrassed Shoryu earlier, and if he'd learned anything at all about the boy he knew that now was time for a little payback.

"Oh _snap _Kazuya!" Shoryu's voice echoed painfully high and long around the clearing. "_Nine and a half!_ I forget! _What _was it you were saying earlier?"

The samurai's palm met his head with a loud slap as both girls fixed Shoryu with a bewildered, open-mouthed stare.

"What did he say?" asked Fujiko.

"Ignore him, he's being a jerk." Kazuya found himself repeating the exact same words Shoryu had spoken earlier. His eyes then scanned around for the one member of Squad Thirteen who was nowhere to be seen. Where was Reizo? Had he been engaged by ninja as well, or had he really just gotten lost? Eager to change the subject, he added, "What are you doing out here anyway?"

Fujiko recounted previous events like she was reading from a shopping list as she kept a wary eye on Ayako. "The other night our village got visited by a squad of ninja – they started asking all sorts of questions, they refused to pay for anything and they might have just been the rudest people we've ever accommodated. They were led by a big guy, but the loudest by far was taller ninja with dark hair."

"Tairo and Kiyoshi's group," Shoryu mused. "It must've been before we encountered them last night – they were pretty angry if I remember rightly."

Kazuya nodded in agreement and beckoned for Fujiko to continue her story.

"After that my father set up patrols and authorised us to attack any foreign ninja who strayed too close to the village," she explained.

Despite himself Kazuya sighed in embarrassment. He heard the two behind him trade whispers before he continued, "And if our village actually took a few minutes to educate themselves about the different shinobi marks you'd all know that Ayako _isn't_ a foreign ninja." He paused to tap the metallic symbol on his forehead protector and then pointed to the same one that Shoryu and Ayako each bore. "See that? It's the Cloud Village mark – Land of Lightning ninja."

"Oh. . ." Once again Fujiko's gaze dropped to the floor, feeling humiliated for making such an easy mistake. She wasn't the only one though; Kazuya knew that half the warriors in his village couldn't tell you the difference between a cloud and a leaf mark. Ayako was lucky to run into Fujiko of all people – she would've been killed by some of the older, more advanced samurai for sure.

"But that still doesn't explain what _you're _doing here Fujiko," Kazuya started. With one swift movement he snatched the crimson covered sword from her belt. She looked even more nervous than before as he surveyed it, pulling back the handle and observing the familiar craftsmanship. "Where did you get this? You know you're not supposed to carry swords."

"Alright I stole it," she admitted, chewing her lip in anxiety as she confessed to her crimes. "But it's so _boring_ in the village! I only wanted to take a shift out here. You said you'd allow women to be warriors when you become Taisho!"

"And I will." Kazuya placed a comforting hand on her shoulder; the first time his two teammates had ever seen him comfort anyone. Shoryu smirked as Ayako's eyebrows almost reached the top of her forehead. Having spoken little to Kazuya she knew nothing of his relationship with this strange girl.

"But until then I've got to respect your father's wishes," added the samurai. "If he knew I let you run around with this thing he might reconsider appointing me as his successor."

Fujiko smiled weakly. "You're right. . . I'm sorry," she conceded.

Before she had the chance to apologise further the soft padding of footfalls upon snow sounded from the north as all four teenagers turned to a shaded region of the woods. Reizo had suddenly appeared; he made his way towards them with a sheepish smile as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

"Sorry about that!" he announced. "I must've gotten lost. I was so eager to reach the fight that I ran right past you; but you seem to have everything under control here, good work."

As always the Jonin's skills at keeping a straight face were flawless. Deception was all part of a shinobi's job and Reizo was one of the best, yet often the best laid plans didn't foil everyone. Kazuya suspected him immediately, and his highly trained eyes slyly followed the tracks back through the woods. Heavy footprints were left where he'd walked, though they stopped after about ten metres at the base of a fern.

Kazuya's eyes narrowed in suspicion. _He was watching us the entire time from that tree. Why didn't he intervene before I did? Why would he just watch the fight between those two and do nothing about it? Was he just testing Ayako? What for? _His mind raced around the different possibilities until his fiancé interrupted his brainstorm.

"So you're visiting us? That's why you're here right?"

Kazuya's heart stopped. Here was the dilemma he'd been dreading ever since he saw her. Now that someone from the village knew he was close by he couldn't very well just leave them; they'd feel betrayed and abandoned by the man who was supposed to be their future leader. Even so, visiting again was the last thing he wanted. "Yeah, about th-"

"-Hang on," she cut him off. "That wouldn't make sense! You're heading that way, and the village is back that way!" She pointed south. "You were travelling this close and you didn't even want to visit?"

Shoryu's singing voice drifted in from the background. "Busted."

"I just didn't have the time," Kazuya reasoned, ignoring his partner's jape. "We're on a very important mission." It was a lie – he'd already been offered the chance of going out there by his squad commander, he just didn't want to return without a decent sum of money to appease the clan. The lie might have worked too, if Reizo hadn't opened his mouth.

"It _is _an important mission, but it's not especially dangerous and we don't need four people to do it. I could probably do it by myself in fact," said the squad leader. Even a warning glare from the samurai wasn't enough to still his tongue. "Kazuya, stay with your family. We'll come and pick you up on the way back in a couple of days. I'll make sure you receive the mission's full pay too."

The samurai protested, "But I couldn't possibly-"

"-Relax. There's no shame in it; we'll only be walking so you won't miss out on much. If you stay in one place you'll have time to do something useful like training. Just make sure we don't get attacked by a band of samurai when we make our way back."

"That's great! Come on!" exclaimed Fujiko as her fiancé was left speechless. There was no choice now – he had to return to the village. He silently cursed Reizo for his meddling, whether it was for the greater good or not.

Kazuya was happy so far that only Shoryu from his squad knew about his betrothal to Fujiko. Ayako and Reizo could speculate on their relationship based on the brief conversation they'd witnessed, but as long as it was mere guessing on their part they would never know the truth for sure unless Shoryu betrayed his trust and told them all about it.

For that reason his heart sank when Fujiko pecked him lightly on the cheek and grabbed his hand, leading him excitedly back towards the direction of the village. He cringed as he saw the shocked expressions of his female teammate and his Jonin commander, followed by a twinge of irritation when Shoryu whispered an explanation to Ayako:

"He's quick with the girls," joked the boy.

"We'll see you soon Kazuya! Have fun!" Reizo called after him.

* * *

An hour passed in no time at all as the two teens of the Village Hidden in the Glacier caught up and reminisced. Heading south the snow on the ground got thinner and thinner whilst the snow in the air morphed into sleet that melted the moment it hit the ground. Before long the environment got so cold that even grass couldn't survive for long, and it was this turn in climate that had forced Kazuya to join the ranks of the ninja in the first place.

The village had always been cold, but the sudden further drop in temperature had killed many crops that the samurai made a living by selling. The snowstorms in winter became so violent that only samurai who knew the land could navigate them, reducing their custom even further. With the village in an economic crisis Kazuya joined the ninja to earn some more ryo for basic supplies. He'd earned a little so far, and he only hoped it would be enough to satisfy the Taisho until he made Chunin.

Finally the two came to what local samurai called 'The Glacial Drop' – a deadly, near-vertical descent made up entirely of dripping ice that sloped down almost three hundred metres through a shadowed arch and into the village itself. It was the only way to get to and from the Glacier; most traders avoided it and so most sales were done up here on the edge, but to get up or down one had to climb or abseil through the swirling mist that shrouded the deadly descent.

Over a hundred secure, steel nails had been hammered into the ground where the flat land suddenly plummeted into sloping ice, and attached to each a huge length of rope dangled down the hill. Used in conjunction with an ice axe these ropes allowed the samurai passage up and down the mountain. Even with this safety the Glacial Drop was still perilous – at the foot of the mountain the swords of over a hundred fallen samurai were thrust into the ground as a constant memorial to those who had died.

Fujiko made her way through the fog and over to one of the metal spikes, gingerly keeping her distance from the sharp drop as she began to unravel the rope tied to it.

"I don't think you'll need that," said Kazuya. He walked over to the edge and looked down at the drop, sizing it up like a challenger.

"Why? Do you know another way down?" asked Fujiko, curious.

"Walking," he muttered in response. He continued to weigh up the Glacial Drop with a vague smile.

"What, is there a passage around that I don't know about or something?"

"No, I mean walk down the drop."

"Huh?" Fujiko joined him at the mountainside and stared at the descent. "Kazuya it's a three hundred metre drop at eighty degrees down _ice_. It's not something you can just _walk_ down."

"I know, but a few days ago I mastered this thing called the 'stream technique'. My sensei, Reizo, told us that if we could do that, then walking on walls and ceilings should be no problem," revealed the boy.

"And have you actually tried it yet?" pressed Fujiko.

"No, but I've got a good feeling about it, all I have to do is direct chakra to my feet in a steady flow. The stream technique was in my hands so it should be easy to just redirect it."

Kazuya was speaking nonsense to Fujiko. The samurai way was simply to use chakra, not to understand it or manipulate its qualities for convenience. Many of the warriors in his village were so adept with using the Ice Style that he figured most of them would be able to scale the Glacial Drop with just their feet if they actually took a few lessons to learn the science of it. Confidently the boy put one foot over the edge.

"Kazuya wait!"

But he was already gone. Fujiko averted her eyes and let out a small scream at seeing her boyfriend step over the edge to what should've been a painful death. Kazuya's modest laugh though told her that she couldn't have been more wrong. When she finally dared to turn back around he was stood perfectly still, defying the laws of physics on the angled, iced over drop. Her face lit up.

"That's incredible!" she cried.

"It's actually a pretty basic shinobi skill. Come on then, hop on my back."

Kazuya walked back up to the cliff edge and allowed Fujiko a moment to nervously survey the drop one more time.

"Don't you trust me?" he teased.

The girl pouted with a glare of disapproval before casting his doubts into a fire by jumping up on his back. He held her securely with his arms underneath her knees as the pair set off at a steady pace down the mountain. With the extra weight he had to spend a little more chakra, but since she was light enough it did little to his overall stamina. With the first twenty steps or so Fujiko was terrified he might slip and couldn't even bring herself to look at the sheer height of the fall that awaited them in case that happened. Once Kazuya started talking though, she forgot all about it and placed all her faith in him.

"This mountain doesn't seem so bad to me anymore," he reflected. "It used to really scare me as a kid."

"I'm not surprised. My father took you up here three years before anyone else our age." Fujiko suddenly remembered with a shudder the time the Taisho had told her that he intended to take her betrothed up the Glacial Drop at the age seven.

Kazuya hummed in agreement. "He was just trying to toughen me up a bit. He's always had high hopes for my future; I don't suppose he had joining the shinobi in mind though," he lamented.

"He'll get over it someday," she reminded softly, warm breath blowing over his ear. "They all will. You did what was best at the time.

"Shame no one else sees it that way. Then again I don't suppose his dreams for you were to go sneaking out of the village traipsing around with swords either."

A light slap on the back of his head suddenly reminded Kazuya to stop being so uptight. He'd put on such a cool façade ever since he joined Squad Thirteen, and of all the shinobi in the Village Hidden in the Clouds only Shoryu had managed to reveal parts of his true personality.

"You won't tell him will you?" said Fujiko.

Kazuya laughed. "Only if you don't tell him that I planned to pass right by the village without saying hi."

"Deal," she resolved.

"Alright give me a minute." They were only about a fifth of the way down the Glacial Drop when Kazuya suddenly stopped and shifted his posture a little. He turned side-face with his feet in a wide stance like some kind of surfer.

"Wait, what are you doing?" asked Fujiko.

"This is ice right? So if I reduce the flow of chakra just a little. . ." One glance back to her bewildered expression told the samurai she had no idea what he was talking about. He shook his head and smiled. "Just hold on tight."

With that, Kazuya dropped the steady amount of chakra flowing to the soles of his feet by a tiny margin, causing them to slowly slide down the Glacial Drop. Frightened, Fujiko clung to him more tightly as he dipped the chakra even further. The pair suddenly accelerated into a sideslip of alarmingly fast speeds that was sure to have them down the mountain in no time, be it dead or alive.

* * *

Mixed screams of terror and exhilaration could be heard from the outskirts of the village as the future Taisho with his betrothed on his back skidded down to where the Glacial Drop levelled out into flat land. With the speed they'd built up Kazuya and Fujiko should've slammed straight into a nearby building at speeds faster than the samurai's maximum strain of dojutsu, though with a building increase of chakra to Kazuya's feet the pair slowed down to a steady stop right at the base of the drop.

Despite his initial reluctance Kazuya couldn't deny that it was great to see the Village Hidden in the Glacier in all its magnificence once again. Over six long months had passed since he joined the Cloud to study, joining Squad Thirteen some two months later. As such, he'd almost forgotten what his home looked like.

Glacier Village was a large valley made up of frosted ground and patches of black ice, enclosed by the tallest cliffs Kazuya had ever seen on its east, west and south side with the Glacial Drop to the north, protecting it from enemies and wild predators alike. Snow covered homes were roofed with slate that curved upwards complete with chimneys that constantly smoked, a type of architecture that was relatively unused outside of samurai villages. The occasional cherry blossom tree sprung up from the fenced paths that connected the village, sprinkling it with a taste of vivid pink here and there.

Fields of crops growing wheat, corn and rice surrounded the village right inside the shadow of the encircling ice cliffs. This protected them from the cold sweeping gusts that claimed the village's core in winter, and their close proximity to the few hot springs allowed them to absorb what little heat they could. Ice cold waterfalls every fifty metres used for endurance training leaked from the cliffs and trickled down into the village, forming tiny streams crossable by pleasant little bridges and eventually stopped by ancient stone monuments depicting legendary swords, samurai philosophies and long dead Taisho.

Ominous tracks of mist snaked through the village on random paths in complete disregard of the wind. They seemed almost alive; writhing past homes and crop fields they unsettled most newcomers, dissipating into thin air after a few minutes or ascending into the sky.

After finally taking in the breathtakingly gorgeous scenery Kazuya placed his bride to be gently on the ground as farmers and samurai alike rushed out to bow to their future leader once more. A few seemed genuinely happy to see him, though Kazuya saw clear contempt behind many of the false smiles.

"Kazuya!" sounded a voice, one that the samurai recognised immediately.

As quickly as he could Kazuya spun around and dropped to his knees, placing both fists firmly on the ground as a sign of loyalty. "Honoured Taisho, I am yours to command." Without even noticing he'd slipped back into the cold persona he used for interacting with his squad. He'd always been close with the village leader, but he'd been gone for half a year; he had to remain as respectful as possible.

"Damn it rise Kazuya," instructed the Taisho, much to the boy's relief. "You're no stranger here. Six months is a long time to be gone though; walk with me."

Kazuya rose immediately and fell into step beside his clan's commander with Fujiko in tow. Out of respect the two remained three paces behind him at all times. The rest of the village bowed courteously one more time and got back to their daily lives.

Bishamon Takashi stood as a great beast of a man, almost half as wide as he was tall. His hair of the darkest black was shaggy and unkempt, matted like the thick beard that hung down to his belt. His figure was gaunt, his muscles fat, hairy and bulging with biceps resembling large coconuts.

The sleeveless crimson armour that had been tailor-made to suit his enormous size was battered and torn by the cuts of blades from years of fierce combat. Some of the dents had cut right through the armour and left scars upon his body that stretched right up to his face. The stitching of a slash that had nearly killed him curved up along his neck, and another decorated his left cheek in a straight line; apparently there was another in the shape of a cross hidden behind the beard too, but Kazuya had never seen it.

A jaw set wider than any Kazuya had ever seen framed his broad face, yet behind his frightening appearance there was a kind man with a firm hand, a man who loved his people fiercely.

Together the three of them made their way through the village, receiving bows from many who hadn't witnessed their initial arrival. Kazuya and Fujiko traded nervous looks as they allowed Bishamon to do most of the talking.

"Quite an entrance there Kazuya, I see you've learned a few new tricks since you've been away. You've gotten taller too."

Kazuya smiled; that last comment wasn't much coming from the man who stood close to seven feet tall. "In truth I hadn't tried the wall-walking technique before today, but I progressed quite a bit in my training so I gave a try."

"So you decided to dive right in the deep end and test it on one of the most dangerous descents known to man." Bishamon let out a laugh like thunder. "That's bravery if I've ever seen it Kazuya."

"The ninja would call it foolishness."

"_Foolishness _was them coming down here in the dead of night acting like they own the place asking everyone questions!" boomed the Taisho. "As if I know anything about clones and assassinations and Land of Fire business!"

Kazuya steeled himself before he replied. He knew this could go either way; Bishamon could curse him for his cowardice or see his point of view. "Fujiko told me all about that," he began. "We encountered the ninja you spoke of last night and managed to resolve the incident without bloodshed. They won't bother you anymore. I beg that you cease the patrols and stop the order to attack foreign ninja; my squad will be coming back here for me in a few days and I wouldn't want anything to happen to them."

"Hmm." The Taisho considered for a moment. Clearly the events of the other day had put him on edge and still angered him; stomping all over a samurai's pride was always a sure-fire way to get them in a mood. In spite of his instincts though, he resigned himself to Kazuya's judgement. "Perhaps I was a little hasty putting out that order. If you say there'll be no more trouble then I believe you. I'll send out the word to retreat within the hour."

Kazuya breathed a sigh of relief and shared a smile with Fujiko. "Thank you honoured Taisho."

"Quit it with the 'honoured' already, you make me feel like an old man," laughed Bishamon. "I see you found Fujiko. Is my daughter giving you a hard time already? What trouble is she getting you into this time?"

"_Dad,_" moaned the girl.

"None sir." Kazuya covered for her without a moment's hesitation. "She was just picking flowers along the southern pass when I ran into her."

Fujiko gasped and mouthed a silent reply of 'thank you' as her father continued.

"She was on her way to some mischief no doubt," said the man.

"Dad-" Fujiko began a protest again with the feeling of embarrassment washing over her, though her complaint was cut off by a great belly laugh from the Taisho.

"I'm joking Fujiko," he said through a fit of raspy chuckles. "Run along now, Kazuya and I have to talk business."

Kazuya gulped as the moment he'd been dreading arrived: the moment when he told the Taisho exactly how much he'd earned and found out whether or not it was enough to fill the village's appetite. Sensing his apprehension Fujiko caught his eye with a glimpse of worry, though a smiling nod from Kazuya assured her that he'd catch up with her later, allowing her to leave as instructed down a path into the mist that forked away from them.

"I've never fought a battle harder than managing four daughters," Bishamon remarked as they passed the shrine. Burning incense drifted from every window and stung Kazuya's eyes, preventing him from laughing too hard at the Taisho's joke.

"I'm sure sons are equally difficult," replied the boy as the vile taste of smoke lavished his tongue.

"Probably, but who needs sons when I've got you? I've never met another samurai who can do that crazy eye trick of yours."

At this Kazuya's laugh was sincere; Bishamon never got tired of seeing the boy's spiral-eyed dojutsu. To him it was a work of art that was not only an incredible technique in battle, but also a nice parlour trick to use whenever he wanted to proudly show off his upcoming successor to the Taisho of other samurai villages.

"Anyway, as you can probably see we're only just managing over at this end. Tell it to me straight Kazuya, how much have you earned from these six months as a ninja? We need the money desperately or the village will be in ruin by this time next year," said the Taisho.

Breathing deeply, Kazuya made a quick recount of all the cash he'd amassed so far. Once he was sure the amount was correct he recited it, keeping as cool and calm as he possibly could. He'd completed fifteen D-Ranked missions and was in the process of a second C-Rank. Of course Shoryu's fall for him in the stream test had earned him the equivalent of a third C-Rank mission as well. For once in his life he was shaking, and not from the cold either.

"By the end of the week I'll have just under half a million ryo," he revealed at last.

Bishamon nodded in understanding, contemplating the amount as he thoughtfully hummed and twirled his enormous beard between two fingers. From just the look on his face Kazuya knew it hadn't been quite what he was hoping for, but at least he wasn't angry.

"You would've made more by this point if you went into commerce like my grandfather," said the Taisho at last.

Kazuya had been through this conversation before, and yet Bishamon never seemed to understand. "I know that, but I'll make more in the long run by staying as a ninja. The Chunin exams are at the end of the month – if I pass then I'll be assigned to a higher rank and allowed to take on more dangerous missions. Every assignment I complete as a Chunin should land me between thirty and _two hundred _thousand ryo. With that kind of money I'll be able to keep us afloat indefinitely."

"And if you fail?"

"If I fail. . ." Kazuya breathed a long sigh. "I'd have to wait another six months to retake it. Chunin exams are only hosted twice a year."

Bishamon stopped in his tracks and turned to the boy. His look was hard to meet, but Kazuya knew that respect and trust would come if he held his gaze. He knew how much of a difficult situation this was; he only asked that the Taisho placed a little faith in him.

"Alright Kazuya," said Bishamon, proposing a compromise. "I'll give you until the end of the month then. I hate to be harsh but the village just can't afford another six months. If you fail those exams I'll have no choice but to put you in freelance trading management."

The boy samurai nodded right away; in truth he'd expected this turn of events. This Chunin exam would be all or nothing for him then. The entire future of his clan rode upon his ability to pass a test that should've been beyond his years. Even so, his confidence was strong. "I won't fail sir. When I pass, come next year we won't just be surviving, we'll be prospering again."

"I hope so Kazuya. That'll be all for now; if you'll have excuse me I have a council to coerce, we'll talk more later okay?" said Bishamon. He turned on the spot and headed back in the general direction of the shrine, and Kazuya watched him disappear back into the village's thick cloud of mist before he managed to gather his courage and speak up again.

"Sir!" He called into the fog.

Through the wispy white mist Kazuya saw the vague outline of the Taisho's face reappear. "What is it?" he asked.

"I wondered if you might know where to find Jun. I need to ask her something."

"Your aunt?" Bishamon looked confused. "She'll be ploughing in the fields I expect – what do you need to talk to her about?"

Kazuya had his mind made up already. Shoryu had summoned up the courage to ask his only close relative about his family, now it was his turn to do the same - he needed answers about the dojutsu whether his aunt wanted to give it them or not.

". . . My father," said Kazuya.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: :O DUN DUN DUNNN!

Hello again! So there's the Village Hidden in the Glacier, cool huh? It's kind of like a traditional samurai village, only it's surrounded by cliffs of ice and it's almost impossible to get to unless you're a samurai or a ninja.

I was kinda going for a different side to Kazuya today, one that's only been hinted at through Shoryu's short-lived bond with him. He's still cold and a little distant but he's alright once he lightens up, and he's got a nice relationship with Fujiko. I actually like the idea of them getting along well because I _hate _romantic clichés – seriously, how many "they're in an arranged marriage but they don't like each other" plots have we seen in fiction already? I've never liked them to begin with, and then I had to read Brick Lane last year for my course which made me hate them even more. Dullest book ever. I also have big plans for Kazuya and Fujiko in Volume Two, and them hating each other's guts wouldn't really make it any good. I also hate love triangles, but that's another story.

Also I realised upon rereading that some of Shoryu's lines might make him seem like a bit of a misogynist. He's not really – at this point he's actually head over heels for Ayako. He's really just being blunt about what most teenage guys think and exaggerating it on purpose to wind up Kazuya. Plus he's a shonen fiction hero; none of them are perfect are they? At least he's honest.

Lastly there were a few more essential names dropped in this chapter. Fujiko is a really old and traditional name that means 'Child of the Wisteria' and Bishamon is another ancient name – it's the Japanese God of War. What better person to give it to than a grizzled old veteran samurai?

Back to the village next chapter before Chunin exams begin in chapters 17 onwards! The exams will be the climax of Volume One and will run alongside another massive event that leads us into the second volume (Hint: Kage summit conference :D)


	16. Chapter 16 No Second Thoughts

Chapter 16: No Second Thoughts

After spending the last two days trying out the tree-climbing exercise Ayako's confidence had improved to the point where the Glacial Drop seemed like a non-issue for her. Even with the steep, icy fall whose base was completely cloaked in mist, she kept her wits about her. Shoryu and Reizo walked by her side at all times; if she lost concentration and slipped one of them would save her, though she was determined not to let it come to that.

After a quarter of an hour's descent the three ninja passed underneath a great, shadowed arch before finally slipping down to the Village Hidden in the Glacier. It was exactly as Kazuya described; a bleak, snowy valley with a bitter chill that ran through it like a dagger. Yet there was beauty here that he hadn't mentioned before. Something about the swaying cherry blossoms, chuckling rivers and swirling mists displayed an odd serenity in such a harsh and unforgiving environment.

Unfortunately the looks they received from the people were about as cold as the village itself. Folk peered out of their windows with judgemental stares and samurai flocked together in packs of six to appear more intimidating. Clearly the word had been put out not to attack any more ninja, and clearly many samurai resented it.

Of course none of this seemed to bother their intrepid sensei. Reizo walked right up to the fattest, meanest looking samurai he could find, who stood with his arms crossed as he chewed on a toothpick.

"Hey there. I was wondering where we could find Kazuya?" the Jonin asked with a smile.

Violently the samurai spat out the wooden toothpick to the floor, right by Reizo's feet. His actions were so sudden that Ayako could've sworn she saw Shoryu jump a little. Eventually the nameless samurai jerked his head in a vague direction down one of the many pathways. "Waterfall," he said, making no excuse to hide his hostility.

Just when Ayako thought her teacher couldn't get any bolder, Reizo took a step forward, smiled even wider and gave the samurai a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Cheers," he beamed. With that, he set off down the road with his two students in tow; Ayako heard the samurai curse to himself as he brushed off his armour where the ninja had touched him. The three headed through a patch of mist and passed by a field, filled with five women and two men labouring over what few radishes they'd managed to grow. Behind them an endless cliff of ice reached up to the sky, broken by tiny cracks where the wall leaked tiny streams into the village. Some were big enough to form small waterfalls; one of them lay right next to the farm they crossed, and to little surprise Kazuya was sat at its base.

With his pants rolled up past his thighs and his shirt discarded at the riverbank Kazuya remained cross-legged underneath the six foot wide waterfall with his eyes shut. At first it seemed like he was sleeping, but the peculiar stillness of his body and the flakes of ice that ran down the river told them it must be the same meditation he practiced daily. Ayako shot a worried look to Reizo; clearly he was as uncertain as she was; should they disturb him? If they just left him then how much longer would he take?

Apparently though, Shoryu had other ideas in mind. Before his sensei could correct him the boy collected up a snowball and lobbed it as hard as he could. Kazuya's eyes flashed open a mere instant before he was struck. His right hand left his knee and caught the ball perfectly.

"Very funny," he said, speaking loud enough so that his voice rose over the steady crash of the waterfall around him. "You'll never hit me with one of those, not ever."

Shoryu laughed as he reached the river's edge. "Hey I was testing you! I had to make sure that whole hyper-awareness thing you have going on didn't go stale while I was away."

Kazuya got to his feet and strode out of the waterfall, perfectly still despite the intense cold Ayako could feel radiating from him. He dried his long white hair with a towel before looking around to find his sleeved shirt, still talking as he searched. "I'm sure it can last a few days without you."

"Hey, you never know," offered Shoryu.

Finally Kazuya found his shirt and pulled it back over his head. "You arrived just in time, I found out some information about my father."

"Your father?" Ayako looked just as shocked as the other two members of Squad Thirteen. "Isn't he the one who. . ."

"Gave me these eyes, I presume. He left the village when I was born, then disappeared some five years later." Kazuya finished for her.

"Kazuya, I hate to bring this on you but if someone's been missing for _eight_ years then the odds of them being alive are-"

"-Slim I know," said the samurai, interrupting his sensei's warning. "He's probably dead, but I just had to find out some information about him."

"And how did you manage that?" Shoryu asked. Ayako couldn't be sure, but something about the way her teammate spoke seemed to communicate that he knew something about Kazuya that they didn't.

"I asked my aunt Jun, the one I told you about," answered the boy, giving Ayako her answer.

"I thought you said she wouldn't tell you anything?" said Shoryu.

Suddenly Kazuya showed traces of a vague smile; it was something that didn't escape Ayako's attention. Perhaps they'd been a negative influence on him, she reflected as Kazuya continued, because he seemed far more rougish than usual. "She wouldn't. . . Until I threatened her with exile if she didn't tell me anything."

"How did you do that?" said the girl; clearly there was something about Kazuya she hadn't been told yet. How did he have that much power over a senior member of his clan?

"Kazuya's the next leader, or Taisho of this village," Shoryu informed her. He saw no sense keeping it a secret here, and for once Kazuya didn't seem to mind either. "So what did you find out anyway?"

"A name, a profession and his last known location," started Kazuya. "His name's Michio Senmatsu, last seen eight years ago in the Land of Hot Water – I'll visit it when I get the chance. But there's more; I finally found out why my aunt despised him so much."

"Go on." It wasn't just Shoryu who was curious anymore. Both Ayako and Reizo leaned forwards in anticipation as Kazuya sighed and dropped a bombshell.

"He was a ninja - a Hidden Mist ninja. My aunt Jun always resented her sister – my mother, Rin, for eloping with an outsider, especially a foreign ninja."

"Guess that explains a lot," figured Shoryu.

It certainly did; the way Kazuya spoke about his aunt gave Ayako the distinct impression that they'd never really cared for one another. Kazuya had simply been seen as a replica of his father and because of it, neglected of any love or attention from her. Since his mother died during the winter of Kazuya's birth, she figured his aunt's hatred of him must've run deeper still – she blamed him for the death of her sister; that much was clear.

"Kazuya, how long were you under that waterfall before we arrived?" Reizo couldn't help but ask.

Kazuya checked his surroundings, coming to his conclusion based on the position of the hidden sun above. "About ten hours I'd say."

"Impressive."

Shoryu huffed and crossed his arms. "No big deal – bet I could do that," he said sarcastically. That same sarcasm was wasted on Kazuya though, who seemed to think he was deadly serious.

"I'll bet you a free shot with a snowball you can't last a minute under there."

Shoryu seemed about to clarify his joke before he took a moment to consider Kazuya's deal. He _had _tried and failed twice now to get one up on him. It might have been the most stupid, childish bet to ever be made, but refusing it would just result in the samurai calling him out on his cowardice. Besides, it was only a minute, how hard could it be?

"You're on," he replied, stripping off his jacket and his shirt before rolling up his trouser legs and heading over to the river bank. The occasional scrape and two or three dimming bruises could be seen on his bare torso, but that wasn't the first thing that caught Ayako's attention. Shoryu was _toned_; once she noticed it, it became hard to _stop_ looking at how much more athletic Shoryu had gotten over four months in the squad. No longer was he just some skinny, awkwardly framed kid from the village; he'd progressed gradually into a healthy, muscular figure right under their noses, and none of them had noticed the change until now.

With a cautious gaze he eyed up the stream like a piece of food gone two weeks over its expiry date. After a deep breath he plunged his right foot into the depths, his soles hitting rock once the water reached up to his bare shins. If he regretted making the bet before, Ayako knew for certain that he did now. The look on his face showed both extreme discomfort and sheer willpower.

"Shoryu that might not be the best idea," advised Reizo.

The boy was beyond listening; after another pause his left leg joined him and he began to wade towards the waterfall. He knew the science behind it after all; Kazuya's clan would practice here to hone their skills at the whole 'stillness of the mind' meditation. If he could just replicate it then he should be safe, theoretically of course.

Shoryu's hands had already begun to tremble with the cold, and the hairs on his arms that stood on end were immediately flattened the moment he ducked his head right into the icy waterfall. The shaking intensified and his teeth began to chatter, preventing him from speaking properly. Ayako could actually see translucent fragments of broken ice flowing downstream from the falls. The village itself was cold enough; she didn't want to think how Shoryu might feel.

"How is it in there?" she asked. Her lips said one thing, but her tone of voice seemed to say 'it serves you right'.

"Terrific!" he called back, wrapping his arms around his body. He stammered every other word as he continued, "You should come on in, the water's nice and warm!"

"I think I'll pass on that one," teased the girl.

Shoryu nodded in understanding, teeth chattering so fast that she feared he might break one. "Your loss – you're missing out on a treat here! Sensei how long has it been?"

"Ten," replied Reizo, also employing a voice of disapproval.

"Hours or seconds?"

"Seconds."

"Feels like ten _years!_" Shoryu remained in total agony under the waterfall. After another five seconds passed he began to mutter to himself over and over again, trying to force the state of mind upon himself. "Stillness of the mind, stillness of the mind," he repeated.

Kazuya laughed. "You know I don't think it'll come to you if you just say it over and over again," he offered.

Then the pain kicked in, and from that moment Shoryu's mind was set. Frostbite digging like the sting of an extremely large bee to the back of his neck and shoulders forced him to yelp like a startled animal and jump out of the waterfall in a knee-jerk reaction. Shaking like a madman and gripping his glowing red shoulders he staggered through the pool and made his way through to the riverbank.

Just when he'd almost reached warmth again, something small, fast and hard careered into his groin. Ayako gasped as the impact knocked him off balance and sent him face-first into the icy cold water, seemingly unconscious until he resurfaced and scrambled to shore. Kazuya was already quietly laughing as his comrade squirmed in agony.

Even Reizo looked stunned by the savage heights their rivalry had risen to – one minute it was distant friendship and the next they would viciously sabotage one another. He hoped their point-scoring debate never reached over into their real life battles. He could see it now: Kazuya the famous warlord samurai, killed in combat because his old friend decided it might be funny to glue his sword into its sheath.

"Brutal Kazuya, just brutal – absolutely merciless," Shoryu croaked. "I'd expect nothing less. I swear you make them out of ice instead of snow."

"Well maybe you should stop making bets you can't win before your chance at having kids disappears," observed the samurai, smugly watching as his friend huddled himself into one of the spare towels.

"Or maybe I should just stop losing and make sure you're unable to have little baby Taisho of your own. Wouldn't Fujiko be sad?"

"Dream on."

Shoryu laughed back, pulling his shirt back over his head and retrieving his jacket from the snowy grass. He was still shaking; Ayako had a feeling he'd be like that for another hour or so before she noticed something else that she'd never seen before.

Three broad strokes stretched over Shoryu's left quad muscle. The relatively recent stitching from the scars burned up like fire under the cold in comparison to the rest of his pale, colourless leg. Just one look at Kazuya told her that he'd noticed it to, although he seemed to be a lot more clued in on whatever had made such an awful mess of his leg. They looked like sword wounds – three of them - stabbed down right to the bone in no particular pattern.

Ayako was the first to ask, though if she waited any longer she was sure Kazuya would've beaten her to the punch. "What happened there?"

"Huh?" Shoryu looked down to the three scars and hastily pulled his trouser leg down. Awkward silence passed over them as he refused to answer right away; it had been the most traumatic experience of his life after all. "Nothing really – it's an old injury."

"Looks pretty recent to me," said Ayako. "Can't be more than a year old."

Shoryu looked about to reply with a snappy comment before his sensei intervened, spilling the beans for both of them upon judging that secrets in his squad at this late stage were forbidden.

"Shoryu's last sensei did it to him, or rather, he did it to himself. You both remember Zakari Takazawa right? The proctor at your graduation exam?"

The pair both nodded. After hearing how badly his clan hated him Kazuya seemed to know what was coming, but Shoryu only turned his eyes to the floor.

"Let's just say he wasn't Shoryu's biggest fan," Reizo continued. "He rigged Shoryu's exam and tried to cheat him out of a position he deserved."

"How?" Ayako couldn't help but ask for all the gory details.

"Altered his exam paper, increased the difficulty, threw a senbon at his right leg and then put him under an advanced Genjutsu that someone of your level shouldn't possibly be able to handle. He knew that, and he did it anyway. The release was so hard to pull off at his stage of development that Shoryu took his sword to his leg in an attempt to get himself out."

Shoryu stood abruptly as Reizo finished his story. Without a word he donned his jacket and turned around, marching over to where he'd left his pack. He picked it up, surveyed the landscape, and as he still refused to look any of them in the eye he spoke at last. "I didn't know it was story time. We should get going," he said.

The remainder of Squad Thirteen suddenly deferred to a tense period of silence. Ayako couldn't help but pity him; his reaction confirmed without a doubt that Reizo's story was true. She'd never seen him look so hurt before – Shoryu was usually aloof and flippant in his attitude, taking nothing to heart and treating almost everything like a joke. This on the other hand was personal. She glimpsed Kazuya beginning to walk over and caught his attention with a shake of her head, wanting to comfort Shoryu herself.

Wordlessly Reizo and Kazuya allowed it, acting as her cue to join the boy ten paces away. She spoke under her breath, keeping the conversation purely between the two of them.

"I'm sorry," she managed. "I wouldn't have asked if I knew."

Venting his frustration with a great sigh, Shoryu shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry about it, it's in the past."

"To think that a teacher could do something like that."

"Not all sensei are as humble as ours – Reizo took me on just to make sure I didn't serve under another clan member," said the boy.

"I'm glad he did." Ayako smiled warmly and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, one of those silky smooth palms that never toughened despite any amount of training. "You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," Shoryu muttered with a nod. His raised his head and straightened out his posture as he finally met her gaze with a mischievous grin. Right away she saw that he had some kind of plan, and his words confirmed it, "Anyway we should really get going; I've got some vengeance to enact on Kazuya."

* * *

Two Days Later

It was just past noon when the great mountain region of the Village Hidden in the Clouds came into view as Squad Thirteen emerged through the tree line of the surrounding forest. Each member was glad to finally reach home, especially after the incessant bickering they'd had to put up with or contend against over the last couple of days.

Just when it seemed Shoryu and Kazuya's relationship couldn't get any more complex the wise-cracking ninja had taken it to a whole new level. On their way out of Glacier Village he had, as he put it, scored the 'ultimate jackpot' against his rival. He'd retrieved his father's flute from his jacket, the one native to Kazuya's village.

Over the months Squad Thirteen had learned that Shoryu's skilful technique with the flute ranged from sweetly melodic to hauntingly beautiful, yet the tune he'd whistled as he walked back towards the Glacial Drop was an abomination. With no rhythm and no regard for breath control Shoryu drummed his fingers over random holes, generating an earache that seemed to attract the attention of every samurai in the village.

Kazuya had never been so embarrassed in his life; the people who would one day serve under and look up to him now knew that he was affiliated with this moronic, carefree warrior who seemed either mind-numbingly stupid or highly offensive. It got so bad towards the end of their five-minute walk that he noticed Reizo keeping a hand curled around the shaft of his spear at all times, expecting an attack.

"It was pretty funny though, right?" Shoryu would often say, followed by the obvious response of Kazuya replying, "They thought you were mocking them!"

The pair still talked, walked, trained and ate together, but their interactions had become slightly frostier than usual. Despite all this, Ayako knew that it was just a matter of time before Kazuya rose to Shoryu's childish prank and retaliated with one of his own; then everything would be back to normal.

Reizo had also been behaving strangely too. He seemed to be avoiding them as best he could, staying wrapped in thought for most of the day and often being so deep in his pondering that he failed to notice when one of them called out his name. He led the group back up the gravel slope of the first mountain that led to the chutes of the Village, yet his steps were heavy and prolonged, as though he was trying to delay something inevitable.

Once they reached the series of mechanised elevators he finally stopped and turned around, prompting the others to do the same.

"Guys," he said at last. "I've got something to tell you. It's not going to be easy and I know it wasn't my decision to make, but-"

"-Actually sensei," Ayako volunteered. "We've got something we wanted to tell you too." She looked left and right for confirmation, receiving a nod from Kazuya and a smile from Shoryu. She'd been told by the boy the night they dropped Kazuya off about their plans to enter the Chunin exams and she'd naturally agreed. It was something she wanted too – if she ever wanted to be Raikage she'd have to ascend quickly. "We've decided to enter the Chunin exams – the ones held here in two weeks' time."

For the first time ever Ayako saw her sensei look positively stunned. No words escaped his lips until an impatient Shoryu decided to chime in.

"Yeah we figured it was about time; I know it's only been four months but we're ready. . . Anyway what was it you wanted to ask us?"

"Oh uh," Reizo scratched his head awkwardly as he entered the first chute and ushered them inside. He'd dodged a bullet for sure. "It's nothing really – it's actually not that important."

Right away all three aspiring Chunin suspected him. The thought clung to them as he pulled the rope dangling from the chute's ceiling, making Squad Thirteen accelerate into a swift ascension through the mountains. What could he be hiding? What did he need to apologise for? Whatever it was, it completely vanished from the minds of Shoryu, Kazuya and Ayako the moment they reached the top.

Outside was pure carnage. The four couldn't even enjoy the blissful sight of the Village Hidden in the Clouds again thanks to the gruesome scene that lay before them. A team of twelve masked ninja lay before them. Some ran around in a frenzy to apply medical aid, others lay bleeding on the floor from naked undressed wounds, and at least three were almost certainly dead.

Tiny rivers of blood spray-painted the clearing from every ninja with a wound. Shuriken that had been successfully removed lay scattered and broken across the ground. It took a few seconds for Reizo to realise which squad this was, and the moment he did, fear began to take over. This was Ruki Jenbo's group, the squad he'd encountered the day before he set off; the squad carrying one of the Legendary Seven Swords of the Hidden Mist. Little to his surprise, it was nowhere to be seen.

Ruki lay on a padded mat upon the ground. Blood matted her usually gorgeous hair and her hand was pressed to a near-fatal wound spread across her hip. One of the ninja tended to her as best as he could whilst another two rushed off for a stretcher.

"What happened here?" Reizo asked, striding towards the woman he knew as a child and her male ninja teammate.

"We were attacked, that's what," said the man, his hands shaking as he feebly attempted to weave stitches, "by Hidden Sand ninja clones. They took the sword and left us for dead; we're lucky so many survived."

For the second time in ten minutes Reizo couldn't believe his ears. "_Sand _ninja clones?" he checked. There was little doubt to him that these were the same brand of clones that had attacked his group and Tairo's, despite each of these hit-squads apparently being from three different lands.

"Yeah, they came out of nowhere – more than fifty of them. I've never seen anything like it," confessed the attendant.

"Reizo, they were. . ." Ruki croaked. Her voice was weak and frail, and yet she still retained consciousness, willing herself awake.

"Don't try to talk Ruki," advised the ninja.

"They were-" she gasped again. This time her voice didn't fail her, but she was so quiet and faint that the Jonin had to lean in closer to make out her words. "They were under Genjutsu. . ."

"_Genjutsu?_" Reizo paused; none of this made any sense in the first place, and now another puzzle had been added. "_Clones _under Genjutsu? Why would anyone need to put a clone under Genjutsu? Are you sure?"

"Yoho told us." Ruki's eyes drifted over to the corpse of a dead ninja just as his body was covered by a black sheet. "He was a sensory ninja."

"_Dad!_"

A disbelieving cry from behind suddenly forced Reizo's attention back to Squad Thirteen. Ayako had one hand clasped over her mouth in shock as one of the wounded ninja pulled down his mask. His face was cut with broad strokes from a kunai knife and his exposed chest was bludgeoned from hand to hand combat, but it was definitely her father. Blood from his leg dripped down like a faulty tap and onto the six coloured scrolls he had on his person at all times. He'd come home injured before, but nothing this bad.

"_Dad!_" she called again, rushing over. Two more ninja huddled around him, and she wanted to push them out of the way before she realised they were helping him with his problem. A windmill shuriken; the same oversized, twelve inch wide version that Shoryu used, was still sticking out of his thigh.

Hideki Tsuji was tall; taller even than Reizo and standing two whole heads above his daughter Ayako. His onyx black hair was always kept short and the grizzled facial hair of a whole week's lack of shaving sprouted from his chin. He was thirty five, athletic and capable; a trusted Jonin of the Cloud, and one who'd persisted against death today.

"Dad, what happened?" demanded the girl.

Hideki muffled a growling moan with his hand balled up into a fist as the two ninja by his side began to coax out the shuriken digging into his leg. "I'll tell you later Ayako; just get back to your mother now. Tell her I'll probably be at the infirmary for the next few days."

"You'll be alright won't you?" said Ayako. She hadn't realised it yet, but her hands were trembling at the sight of her father losing so much blood.

Hideki smiled a brave, cringing face as the blade was finally removed. "Don't worry about me. I've seen this wound before; it's nothing life-threatening. Go get your mother and I'll meet you in the hospital."

* * *

As it turned out, 'meeting' Ayako's father in the hospital had been more of a one-sided affair. He was unconscious the whole time, having been put under heavy anaesthesia for the pain his wound caused him. The shuriken wound that had been 'nothing life threatening' had also not quite been the case; in fact the medical ninja team said that he was lucky to still keep his leg and the majority of his thigh muscle. It might never heal completely, but he'd at least be able to return to duty and his movement would only be hindered by a slight limp for a short while.

Ayako wished more than anything for him to wake up. Her mother, Amaya, cried and cried over his bedside. The girl had no idea what she was so upset about; he was alive after all, they should have been _thankful _that so little damage had been done when a third of his team had been killed in action.

Seeing her own mother cry so hard made Ayako want to do the same. She clenched her fists tightly and gritted her teeth; she couldn't cry – she was a grownup now. If she ever wanted to be the Raikage then things like this would have to stop. She had to be strong; a figure of inspiration that helped others in these situations. After handing her another box of tissues she led Amaya out into the waiting area with a firm hand on her shoulder.

Unlike her husband, Amaya bore a striking resemblance to her daughter. She was small and supple with hair that she changed the colour of on every other day, along with a face that shared Ayako's cutely rounded features, framed by a pair of slim square glasses. Ayako knew that she came from a village to the east, and had married into the Tsuji clan after falling in love with Hideki and sharing his fascination for the Shading Jutsu.

Her dark layer of mascara streamed down from each eye, staining her face as if a black pen had exploded from each one. She finally stopped crying once the medical team told her that Hideki was stable; he might be out for another day or two, but he'd regain consciousness in time. At that point she went from distrusting them outright to virtually singing their praises, showering the ninja with compliments.

Just like that the two went home. Ayako suddenly realised that she hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye to Shoryu or Kazuya as they left the construct and headed out over the sturdy walkways of the village towards their home. In the chaos Ayako had completely forgotten about recent events; now that her mother had calmed down now might be the best time to tell her the good news.

"Oh yeah mom, guess what?"

Amaya looked her way.

"I'm going to the Chunin exams!" she announced, breaking the awkward silence that had grown like a cancer between the two of them.

"Oh uh. . ." Amaya looked off into the distance. The sun was already setting, yet its entirety was concealed by a thin bout of approaching rain. "That's great Ayako, but about that, don't you think it might be better if you wait a while?"

Ayako stopped in her tracks. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"No one would blame you if you just decided to wait another six months. You haven't been on a team for long after all."

"I know that," Ayako said, folding her arms. That wasn't the point. "But I don't get it; you were the one who kept telling me I should go for it. Luckily for me both members of my team are also on board, so there's nothing stopping us now! Why the sudden change of heart?"

Amaya heaved a sigh and turned to her daughter. With the same smooth hands she cupped Ayako's cheek in her palm and brushed her hair away, looking over her with a precious stare of maternal affection. "One of the ninja from that medical team was also on your father's team – he was one of the few to escape unscathed, and he told me about the mission."

"I thought dad's mission was top secret?" Ayako tilted her head.

"Hideki's well respected, so his friend thought he'd do me the honour of filling me in on what happened. The squad was attacked by the Sand – some kind of clone ambush or something."

_Clone _ambush; the words stuck out to Ayako like a bright pink elephant. She'd still told no one about their ambush from the Hidden Stone clones, just as instructed. Now this was happening so soon after Tairo's group was attacked? It was too unlikely to be just a coincidence; she reckoned it must've been happening all around the world.

"It's probably nothing," Amaya added as she pressed her glasses to her face. "But he kept pointing out over and over again that if this doesn't get sorted out it could lead to a war. The Land of Fire lies between us and Wind, and the Village Hidden in the Leaves has a strong allegiance with the Mist. This could end up involving more than just two nations – we could be looking at a Fifth Shinobi World War."

As shocked as Ayako was, she remained silent about their contact with the 'Hidden Stone' ninja and shook her head, still not seeing the point. "But I don't understand. What does that have to do with me taking the Chunin exams?"

"New Genin are often too inexperienced to take out to war, and those who've got some skill are usually held back anyway. The Jonin and the Kage are mostly assigned to higher ranking, specialised missions suited to their technique. Guess which rank goes to the frontlines?"

Now Ayako understood; if it came to war and she passed the exam she'd be sent out straight away into battle. There'd be no warm-ups or swimming in the shallow area, she'd have to dive right in at the deep end and join the vanguard, doomed to live like cannon fodder – a single number in an army of thousands - until she advanced to Jonin or died in battle. Even when she began to comprehend the gravity of the situation though, she still refused to back down.

"No. I'm sorry, but I'm still going," she stated firmly.

"But-"

"But nothing. I can't just aspire to be the Raikage whenever it's convenient for me. I've got two teammates who I won't disappoint and dreams of my own to follow. I'm not putting them on hold for six whole months for a war that might not even come." Ayako's resolve was concrete; nothing would stop her from attending those exams now that she'd gotten so fired up for them, not even her own mother.

"Please Ayako," begged Amaya, tears welling up again. "I can't lose another child."

The girl smiled to comfort her hysterical mother. "I don't plan on dying," she assured her.

* * *

Reizo was still out of breath when he arrived at the door to the office of the Raikage. He'd spent so much time doing what he could for the wounded and getting different accounts of the story that hours had passed before he could report the mission's success to the Kira. That spiral staircase had been an ordeal in itself after how much he'd worked today. He collected all the information together in his head as he rapped hard on the oaken door.

The Cloud clones that attacked Tairo's group and the Sand clones that assaulted them earlier; he had much to tell and little patience for recounting it all at the late hour. Answering the myriad of riddles and piecing together the clues was impossible with so little information to act on, but that never stopped his busy mind from trying. After a painstakingly long minute, Kira answered the door.

His withered hand clasped Reizo's shoulder as he ushered the Jonin into the office, so thickly laden with smoke that he could scarcely see the end of the room.

"Lord Raikage, I delivered the message as you instructed," Reizo began. "Although-"

Kira Asakura suddenly cleared his throat with a loud cough, venting smoke into the man's face and cutting short his speech. "I fear your actions might have been a little unnecessary Reizo. A dove from the Land of Earth arrived this morning."

"Sir?" Reizo arched an eyebrow.

After another breath the Raikage answered, "The Tsuchikage is dead."

Reizo's shock was apparent even with the constant straight face he employed. The Tsuchikage was a powerful warrior – possibly the fiercest of all the five current Kage. If he could be taken out then no one was safe. He dared to ask who committed such an unspeakable act, even if he knew the answer before his sentence left his lips. "How?" he said.

"A band of ninja," Kira added. "Clones from the Village Hidden in the Leaves."

"_Leaf _Clones now?" Reizo's emotionless expression had vanished completely. "It couldn't be them! The Land of Fire probably had nothing to do with it; there have been attacks all over the world! It's just like you said, there has to be a single Kage behind it!"

Kira nodded thoughtfully. He took another long drag of the bowl-bottomed pipe before continuing, "I know. If we do nothing then it'll be all-out war, which is why I called an emergency summit conference to coincide with the Chunin exams. . . Reizo, I want you to come with me as one of my bodyguards. We'll find out which Kage is behind these attacks and put a stop to this once and for all."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hey guys! So the clones are _under Genjutsu? _Hmm. . . Where have we heard that before?

At last we got a name for Kazuya's father: Michio Senmatsu. We'll learn much more about him and what happened to him at a later date, but at least now we have some idea of who he is/was.

Finally gave Ayako a bit of oomph this week – I've never had the time to develop her properly until now. You might've noticed something her mother mentioned about 'losing another child'; it's something I've had in mind with her for a while, but since it's not plot relevant in any way I've never been able to incorporate it. I'll probably expand within the next chapter or two.

So yeah, other than that I haven't really got much to say. Shoryu and Kazuya are just being themselves and it looks like Reizo will be separated from them for a while. Just in case it wasn't obvious or if you've forgotten already, about mid-way through the chapter Reizo was actually about to tell the group that he volunteered them for the exams without their permission. Naturally since they decided on it themselves, his bet with his father was actually rendered unnecessary, so he didn't tell them about it. Next chapter starts on the Chunin exams and the summit conference! Will Squad Thirteen pass? Will the exams actually get finished this time around? Which Village is behind the clone attacks? Find out! . . Soon!


	17. Chapter 17 The Chunin Exams

Chapter 17: The Chunin Exams

_Two Weeks Later_

A new day's sun rose over the ocean. Dawn embraced ten ships; longboats had set out from one of the Land of Lightning's piers the previous day, sleek and light with white sails that curled in the wind. Today the tide was fair, gently rocking the hundred metre long ships like a baby's crib. That swaying to and fro might not have been a big issue for a few minutes or so, but after a full day of being out to sea the stomach of many a ninja was already spilled - broken along with their spirits.

Dawn had barely broken when Shoryu Aizawa burst out of two double doors of the upper deck and threw his head over the railings. The wind in his hair, the sun on his face, the prospect of a new adventure; it might have all been thrilling if he wasn't puking his guts out every other hour. He wasn't the only one either. At least five other teams of ninja were already up on deck to aid their seasick comrades.

What frightened him the most was the fact that there wasn't a single speck of land in any direction. Softly lapping waves, occasional jumping fish and nine other enormous, ugly longboats were the only features for as far as the eye could see. He liked visiting new places, but this wasn't a location, this was just a drab plane of water as far as Shoryu was concerned. Some ninja would voice their concerns and their teammates would comfort them.

"Get it all up Shoryu!"

Others did not.

"Oh that looks _very _unpleasant," Kazuya carried on. The samurai slapped his partner's back far harder than the norm, causing Shoryu to wretch up further and Kazuya's joyous smile to widen.

"Lay off it would you?" Shoryu slapped the boy's hand away and turned back around, satisfied now that he'd coughed up his breakfast. "I didn't sleep a wink last night."

Kazuya groaned and hoisted himself up onto the railing, staring out to sea. "You're telling me. I didn't get much either. This place is way too hot for my liking."

Ayako suddenly appeared at the doorway, her crimson red hair so reflective under the heavy sunlight that it became hard to look at without squinting. "You're both freaks. Shoryu's never been on a boat before, and Kazuya you literally grew up on a _glacier_, of course you'd think it's warm."

Shoryu's premature rise had forced all three of them to an early start. Seven in the morning wasn't the usual time they got up, but now that they'd eaten breakfast more and more hopeful Chunin began to stir. The three had thought themselves prepared for the exams before; once they saw the amount of other aspirers it was a different story.

Each of the ten ships housed two hundred people apiece, making close to two thousand Genin attending this exam from all over the world. People of all different ethnicities wearing symbols of villages Shoryu had never even heard of wandered the deck like they'd done this a thousand times; it was intimidating even for Kazuya.

Tensions were high with the imminent attacks on differing countries and fights had broken out already, but the proctors had officially stated that business would resume as usual whilst the summit conference was in progress – anyone caught scrapping would be disqualified before the exam even began.

"I really don't understand what's up with you two. This is so nice and warm I could _live_ here," said Ayako.

"Warm yes, also stuffy, bland, packed, boring. . ." Shoryu counted the cons off his fingers. "This place is a nightmare."

"Wait, _boring?_" replied the girl, mortified.

"Yes _boring!_ We can't even see the Island Turtle yet! Who knows how much longer we'll have to stay in this hellhole!"

"And what's so much more interesting about everywhere else we've visited?"

"We're not just sitting around in one place for one thing!"

"So _walking _makes a trip worthwhile?"

"Yes!"

"But this is like a paradise resort!"

To stop their debate and save himself the earache, Kazuya decided to join in once he heard an opening. "I think that's the point," he offered. Once he got the attention of his squad he elaborated, sharing his thoughts. "Look around. This journey is either hell for some people or heaven for others."

Shoryu and Ayako humoured the samurai and did as he said. He was right; those who weren't merrily soaking up the sun like Ayako were either seasick or complaining about the dreadful heat, food, rooms or other miscellaneous annoyances. Everyone either hated it or loved it; there was no in-between whatsoever.

"What's the importance of that?" quizzed Ayako. It was a nice observation, but one that had little relevance.

"It's to put us off guard," explained Kazuya. "People are too busy relaxing or moaning to be ready for an attack. Maybe the Island Turtle is concealed somehow, or underneath the water. We have to be prepared for it at any moment."

"That's it Kazuya!" Shoryu beamed an enormous, sardonic smile and slapped a hand around his rival's shoulder. "You're starting to think more and more like a ninja!"

Kazuya's growl scared the boy away, prompting Ayako to laugh aloud at Shoryu's bold statement. After that the three of them resolved to ignore whatever distractions they might come across. Back through the narrow brown corridors of the ship Squad Thirteen returned to their room. Confined quarters were another thing that led to Kazuya's deduction.

To fit as many people in as possible, the individual squad rooms had to be as small as architecture would allow. Through the door was a bed to the immediate right and one to the immediate left, followed by third bed four yards ahead, and that was it.

Four paces of movement between three people meant that individuals had almost no private space in their quarters. Just as common as the brawls between the teams of neighbouring lands were the fights within teams themselves. Three times already Squad Thirteen had witnessed huge arguments erupt from nearby rooms; ninja would burst out their doors fighting in the narrow corridors before being quickly swept up by Jonin proctors and immediately disqualified.

Luckily Squad Thirteen had that kind of tension between its members on a daily basis; to them, arguments were a part of being on the team. Kazuya and Shoryu would fight constantly over the tiniest thing, and Ayako would scorn them both for being so immature.

To clear his mind in preparation for an attack, Kazuya resumed his meditation upon his bed at the foot of the room. Shoryu and Ayako meanwhile enjoyed a game of shogi on another. The distraction, as trivial as it might be, made the party far more alert so that when they emerged two hours later, they did so with a more open mind. The ship didn't seem quite so daunting to the males of the team and Ayako couldn't help but begin to pick holes at it.

By dinner time the upper deck was packed with students. Squad Thirteen did well to find a spot over by the wooden balustrades, where an ocean view helped keep them calm and ensured that if Shoryu needed to be sick, all he need do was lean over. After a slow half an hour Shoryu began to wish he was sick; anything to excuse himself from a confrontation would suffice, for a familiar face had just appeared on deck.

Strutting around like the ship was his to command, a boy of Shoryu's age patrolled the floor with an air of supremacy. A few ninja from Squad Thirteen's year group parted so that he and his team could pass as Shoryu turned his gaze out to the ocean, hoping he hadn't been spotted yet.

He remembered that two boys of his old class were from the clan and that only one of them had qualified to become a Genin - this was that boy. Tall for his age and well-muscled, Kouta Renazawa had the darkest black hair Shoryu had ever seen cut into watery thin spikes like a trimmed pineapple. He looked like a Zawa clan ideal; everything from the broad facial features and vaguely hooked nose right down to the young mastery of his standard Raikyogan. Every one of the clan's values was personified through that complacent swagger, that overly upright posture and that judgemental stare that Shoryu hated.

As much as he tried to hide, the boy knew that he'd already been spotted.

"Well look at that! It seems the rumours are true!" his voice sung over.

Ayako caught Shoryu cringe and clench his fist in awkwardly concealed rage as he gave the sea one last look. For one terrifying moment she feared he might punch the boy, but when he turned back around his expression was a smile so obviously fake she thought it might have been intentional.

"You've got a lot of guts showing your face here, especially after what you put Reizo through," continued the Zawa.

"Our sensei _chose _to leave your clan," said Ayako, leaping to Shoryu's defence.

"You're quite right," added the boy. "Uncle Reizo was always a sentimental one – always sticking up for the weak ones. Of course it's not your fault that you're one of them Shoryu."

Ayako expected a witty one-liner from Shoryu to put the smug ninja in his place, but he said nothing straight away. His fake smile grew wider and his fist tightened until she understood; he was doing everything in his power not to fly at the boy, knowing they'd be disqualified if they did. Coming up with a cocky comment was impossible in such a state.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Shoryu asked after a moment.

The boy ignored his query and instead turned to Kazuya, the far more impressive specimen and most powerful member of Squad Thirteen who still stood quietly and calmly by the railing. He extended a hand, saying, "Forgive me, I'm Kouta Renazawa. I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"And I don't believe you ever will," Kazuya snapped. Shoryu chuckled as the samurai slapped the greeting hand away and left Kouta humiliated. Having been on the receiving end of that introduction before, Shoryu knew exactly how frustrating it was, but to Kouta's credit he didn't flinch and merely turned the hand to Ayako.

"And who might you be?" he said, glancing her up and down with a perverse look of approval.

For one terrifying moment Shoryu wondered whether Ayako would fold and take the hand. Despite her looks though, she was far fiercer than any would imagine.

"Someone who'll throw you overboard if you ever look at me like that again," she replied.

"I see."

Satisfied that his teammates had his back Shoryu took a second to analyse the situation. He'd sensed something off right from the beginning, and now that he targeted it he felt inadequate for not noticing sooner. The two other team members that fell into step beside Kouta; they were different than the cell he'd been assigned at graduation, very different.

One was a plain looking male with flaming red hair and a short, scrawny physique that barely fit into his oversized coat. The second on the other hand was far more interesting.

A blonde girl - perhaps a year or so older than Squad Thirteen, strode into view behind Kouta. Gorgeous brown eyes like liquid caramel and nicely rounded curves made her a sight to behold, and yet the impartial stare she employed screamed something mysterious. The way she held herself conveyed power; a power far beyond that of the standard Genin. Shoryu wondered whether or not Kouta even knew of this, but even in spite of the Raikyogan he knew in a heartbeat that she could take her Zawa teammate down with no trouble at all.

It was as if she was _so_ unsuspecting that they just _had _to suspect something. Shoryu doubted her reasons for allying herself with Kouta were pleasant ones, especially once he noticed what an inconvenience it must've been for her; she was a Hidden Mist ninja, as was the dull-looking boy next to her.

"Looks like you got yourself a new squad," Shoryu observed. "What are you a foreign ambassador now or something? What happened to your old one?"

"Holding me back - they didn't want to take the exam so I found partners that would," explained Kouta.

"So you had to go all the way to the Land of Water to find people who'd put up with you?" Shoryu presumed. His hand had long since relaxed now that he knew there was nothing to fear.

"Actually no, they volunteered you see. Once they heard I was coming after you they decided to come along for the ride."

Shoryu couldn't help recoiling, giving a small laugh to hide his unease. "You're coming after me? I'm flattered."

"Sorry Shoryu," Kouta said. "But it's the clan's orders. Don't take it personally."

"Whoa, they're not even _trying _to conceal it now are they?" mused the boy. "But even so, why would these two help after hearing that?" He turned his eyes to the pair of Mist ninja. "Sorry guys, but I've never met you before in my life. Maybe you've got me confused with someone else."

"They wouldn't give me reasons, but Suzume and Norio here are from the Oyama clan – it's pretty powerful stuff if you ask me. They have powers that put my old team to shame."

"Come on Kouta." The mysterious girl finally spoke up – Suzume Oyama. "Let's not give away spoilers now."

"You're right Suzume. We'll leave you three to it then." Kouta turned abruptly and gave Shoryu another cocky raise of his eyebrows, daring the boy to pursue him as they headed over in the cafeteria's direction. "See you around Shoryu."

The moment they were out of sight Shoryu released a great breath he'd maintained for a long time. This whole situation confused him; he knew he would have to be extra-careful if Kouta actively planned on seeking him out, but what did those two Mist ninja want with him? He'd never even seen a ninja from the Land of Water until now, so what would they have against him?

As he turned to his cell for answers the idea that Kouta's new friends might not actually be after _him_ occurred to Shoryu. Kazuya looked just as unsettled by their appearance as he did; perhaps they were simply using Kouta to get to the young samurai.

"That girl. . ." Kazuya muttered. He put a finger and a thumb to his chin and pondered briefly. "I've never met her before, but I feel like I know her from somewhere. That other guy is just her lackey, that's for sure. But what could she want with us?"

"I don't think it's 'us' they're concerned with Kazuya. I think it's you," offered Ayako.

Shoryu nodded; clearly Ayako had arrived at the same conclusion he did, though she had far more evidence to back up her claim:

"Think about it Kazuya, you're the only one who's got any connection to the Village Hidden in the Mist. It's possible they knew you were a part of Shoryu's team and sought you out."

"You think they know something about my father?" said Kazuya.

"It looks that way."

With his mind made up Kazuya immediately started down the deck after them before Shoryu caught his wrist, pulling him back to the rail.

"Kazuya," he warned, "if they had any intention of telling you anything they would've told you just now."

"If they have information then I'll get it from them," Kazuya said plainly.

"They won't give it to you."

"Then I'll beat it out of them!"

"And risk getting us thrown out of the exam? Think about us Kazuya; think about your village." Shoryu tightened his grip as Ayako placed a comforting hand on the samurai's shoulder, agreeing with Shoryu without actually saying anything.

"It's not worth it," he went on. "Going after them now would accomplish nothing. My guess is it'll be anything goes once we get out there; Kouta said he's coming after me, and that girl will be with him when he does. You can get your answers then."

After a few moments to consider, Kazuya pulled his wrist free of Shoryu's grasp and eventually nodded in disdain. If he failed this exam then his life as a ninja would be over; the missions, the money and Squad Thirteen - everything would be at an end. Just as the samurai seemed about to confirm his compliance a great claxon suddenly sounded across the ship.

High pitched whining echoed around deck and down every corridor, waking every sleeping ninja and startling those who sunbathed on the light. It wasn't just this ship either; across the narrow stretches of sea water Shoryu heard the wails from the other nine. A mixture of fear and excitement spread like a disease across the longboat. Each and every student immediately understood that this was the beginning of something big.

After a minute or so, when the whispers began to spread, a pair of Jonin emerged from the main cabin and ushered the young ninja inside. In single file they were marched down the creaking passages just barely wider than the average shoulder width and led down a set of dusty stairs to the ship's cargo hold.

Unlike the other levels, the lower deck was normally used as a pantry or a place to store goods that were traded overseas. Now it was completely hollowed out, turning the entire length of the ship into a great hall of sorts. Here connecting seats were arranged like a chapel with a booth at the head where a ninja would no doubt address them.

Packed together like a great tin of sardines the ninja made their way up the narrow aisles and took uncomfortably close seats next to each other until by some miracle, everyone fitted into place. Being closest to the water, the cargo hold was the most creaking, rotten, damp, moss-covered room in the entire ship. Smells fouler than any Shoryu had ever experienced reeked from the dirtiest corners, and yet no one flinched or covered their noses for fear of being mocked.

The roof was so close that if Shoryu stood on his tiptoes he felt the wave of his hair tickle against the dusty ceiling; those more than three inches taller than him had to duck until they found a seat, each of them grumbling about the slime on the walls or the ancient cobwebs decorating the room's crevices.

Finally the ship's two Jonin arrived. They came in last, having to check the rest of the rooms for stragglers, but they wasted no time in making their way to the front of the room. One was a young, attractive male with a thin scar slicing down his neck. The other was older and broader, at least fifty years of age with flecks of grey visible within the darker shades of his hair and a flak jacket that looked dustier than the cargo hold itself.

Both were Cloud ninja. Shoryu knew that Jonin from other lands had come to supervise and that many of them dwelled on the other ships, but since the Cloud was hosting this term they vastly outnumbered the others. More would also come from places all around the world for the final rounds if whispers were to be believed. These rumours made Shoryu wonder what the finale entailed – what kind of arduous final task awaited the hopeful Chunin?

Shoryu saw the younger of the two Jonin retrieve a microphone whose wires led into the floor behind him; only then did he notice the speakers protruding from the walls either side of them positioned every ten paces or so. A whole twenty minutes had now passed since the alarm began, making each ninja anxious to get on with the exam. The chatter dimmed immediately. No one said a word once the Jonin approached the podium.

"Welcome all!" he began, his lively voice booming like an elephant through the surrounding speakers. "I see Cloud ninja, Leaf ninja, Sand ninja, Mist ninja, Stone ninja, and ninja from villages with names I couldn't pronounce if I tried."

A low laugh went around the hall of two hundred as Shoryu noticed the elder Jonin shake his head in disapproval behind his junior.

"Today marks the first time in five years that the Village Hidden in the Clouds has been allowed to host the Chunin Exams!" he added.

"_Listen!" _Ayako hissed under her breath. "Do you hear that?"

With a trade of confused glances Shoryu and Kazuya both listened carefully, hearing past the Jonin and honing in on the ambient noise surrounding the ship. A deep, low pitched hum seemed to emanate from all directions, one that wasn't there before. At first they dismissed it as the habitual creaking of the ancient longboat, yet it was far more than that. It sounded like a low hurricane was rushing past the boughs of the ship – it could've been paranoia, but Shoryu could've sworn he felt himself slide a few inches forward too.

Whatever it was, the Jonin official seemed to be doing a great job of covering it up.

"And that's not just because of the awkward journey it takes to get out here," he went on. "No, no. It's because the Chunin Exams from the Cloud have the highest average fatality rate of any of the five great nations." The ninja began to pace back and forth, waving his index finger around knowingly. "Now I'm not necessarily saying it's harder. It could be that the situations are far riskier, or that we've just had a stroke of rubbish students."

Another laugh claimed the ship, covering up the great sigh of noise that now seemed so apparent to Squad Thirteen. Other teams had begun to notice it too; in fact Shoryu saw Kouta and his mysterious team at the front conversing in hushed voices.

The official began again. "I suppose you want statistics eh? One percent of students die each time the exams get hosted here – 'that doesn't sound like much' you might say? Consider that two thousand Genin entered this year. Twenty of you will most probably die – that works out as two of you sitting in this very room."

The laughter had now stopped for good. Ninja all around the room looked nervously at their teammates and then cast their eyes across the hall, wondering who would be the unlucky duo who'd return to their families not with a smile and a new rank, but with their remains zipped up in a bag. Ayako gulped. Kazuya only grinned.

"Now you've all signed your notices absolving the Cloud of any responsibility for your health, so you know the risks. However I'd like to give you one last chance to back out whilst you still can. There's no shame in leaving now and returning some other time once you're better prepared – ninja throughout the ages have gone on to acquire legendary status for their sense of knowing when to retreat."

For Squad Thirteen backing out wasn't an option. Much to Shoryu's surprise though, not one of the other students budged. Teams around the room talked it over for a minute or so, but when all was set every ninja remained in their seats. Even the Jonin speaker looked pleasantly surprised.

"A full house," he said. "Now that's what I like to see."

The ninja bowed and surrendered the stage to his elder as the entire room suddenly became aware of the noises outside. A noisy squish like a sponge being wringed out could be heard from outside the deck. Ayako felt mildly proud of herself for noticing it before almost everyone else. One student raised his hand, presumably to ask about that disgusting, sickening sound he'd just heard.

The older Jonin simply ignored him and began speaking, his voice hoarse and gruff as an obvious staple of smoking. "Those who live in the Village Hidden in the Clouds will already know about our Chunin Exams, but for those of you who aren't from the Land of Lightning and have been living under a rock for this last day I'll clarify it so that no one has an unfair advantage."

A few foreign students inched to the edges of their seats, leaning forward in anticipation.

"Our Chunin Exams revolve around a natural phenomenon known as the Island Turtle. As you might expect, this is an animal the size of a small country, with its own forests, caves, personal food chain and complex ecosystem. This great beast patrols the waters of our eastern ocean and has been the traditional site of the exams for many centuries now. The aim of the first two stages is to make it to the head of the turtle, where the final stage takes place. The first stage requires you to get safely to the surface."

To the disappointment of the students, the Jonin refused to clarify what exactly he meant by 'get to the surface'. Shoryu's bad feeling and the squelches around the ship allowed him to make a terrifying hypothesis though.

"For the second stage there is a time limit of seven days; you will have to navigate the unforgiving terrain of the turtle's back and make your way up to the neck. Along the way you will not only have to face the turtle's wildlife, but other competing ninja as well." He paused to let the students scribble it down. "At the neck there are ten doors; open one of them and you will qualify for the final rounds.

"The doors can only be opened with a key. Twenty of these keys are scattered around the island, chained to either the left feet or the tails of the island's 'alpha' creatures – the biggest and meanest beasts of their species and the leaders of their respective flocks. If by some extraordinary feat you manage to acquire one of these keys you must still be on your guard; rival ninja teams are permitted to try and steal them from you as your team makes its way towards the neck."

The students each nodded in understanding, being sure to memorise or write down the details of the tests and make a brief mental strategy. They wouldn't be handheld throughout any of this – for the first and the second stage they were completely on their own.

"The pass rate for the first stage is ten percent, and the same goes for the second stage. In other words, at the beginning of the second phase, two thousand will have become two hundred. Likewise, an average of only twenty will advance to the third."

Shoryu understood at last; for the second stage, ten doors would mean that ten teams, or thirty people, could advance, but the odds of this being the case were small indeed. Just getting to the neck would be an ordeal in itself, and acquiring a key from one of the alpha creatures was a whole other story. Of course, this was provided they could even pass the first test, where one thousand eight hundred hopefuls had their dreams crushed.

It was just as he considered mentioning this to Ayako and Kazuya that the Chunin Exams begun. Shoryu's stomach lurched as the ship bucked violently. Ninja screamed and many tumbled out of their seats from the sudden bump in the ground. At first Shoryu suspected that an oversized wave had just assaulted the ship, yet his gut told him otherwise – quite literally.

"Umm, guys," he mumbled over the hysteria. "I don't want to alarm anyone, but suddenly I'm not feeling sick anymore."

"We're not moving," Kazuya realised abruptly. "The ship just stopped."

Over the frightful chatter of the young ninja the Jonin raised his gravelly voice and boomed through the speakers, "Nobody panic! This is just the beginning of the first test. Make your way out to the upper deck and you may start whenever ready."

* * *

Reizo couldn't believe he'd never realised how much the joy of a journey was determined by the company one kept. He'd made his way down almost the exact same road with Squad Thirteen some two weeks ago, and now all sense of fun had been sucked out of it completely. The mood was sombre and the atmosphere heavy; no longer did this seem like an adventure with a surprise around every corner, only a trial that required patience and humility to conquer.

He shared the journey with two men. One was a young sensory ninja who went by the name of Hatori, a fair-haired, slim bodied ninja with overly large eyes and noticeably chubby arms in comparison to the rest of him. Hatori was by no means a rude or boring fellow, but Reizo found rather quickly that he shared next to nothing in common with the man. Conversations between just the two of them were awkward and forced, but he was hardly thankful that these were rare when he compared them to his other accomplice.

The second man of course was Kira Asakura, the tenth Raikage. Reizo only wished that his ancient lord's chronic smoking was the worst of his issues. He would've gladly put up with the asphyxiating clouds of poison twenty four hours a day if it weren't for the tense discussions that he put Reizo and Hatori through.

Every second of every journey was constantly plagued by the Raikage rambling on and on about matters of war, conflict and the meaning of life itself, lecturing the pair about his views whilst at the same time frequently commenting that they were 'too young to understand'. All the two Jonin could do was to nod and agree with him on every topic.

If they objected to his philosophies or offered a respectfully differing opinion even once they would receive another hour's talk about how naïve they sounded. After the first day Reizo knew that he'd never find Shoryu and Kazuya's arguments annoying ever again, and after the second he'd practically relish them; any kind of change would do. It was torturous – the only upside was that at least he and Hatori had something to laugh about.

It took Team Raikage a week to reach the Land of Iron. The deep blue bridge was easily recognisable to all who'd set foot here before, a site of battle that had been damaged in a battle two centuries ago and subsequently rebuilt. Its reconstruction was painfully obvious though; sections of the side walls and the large arching monument of a sword were of a lighter shade and covered with far less moss than the rest of the bridge.

Just a few miles after crossing it the bleak, brown rocks became coated with a thick blanket of ashen snow that crumbled underfoot and forced the Raikage to retrieve another cardigan from his pack. Over the next rise the Three Wolves were visible, a triplet of snow-capped peaks facing away from each other in a triangle, bowing up and over like mangled hands reaching out for mercy. It was a fantastic sight that Reizo had never seen before, and one that was completely spoiled by the Raikage's rambling.

An icy, winding passage through the nearest of the Three Wolves required the wall-walking technique to manoeuvre, sticking to the frosted ground by directing chakra into the soles of the feet. Once they passed though, their journey was finally over, with the grim sight of an ancient, rusted samurai complex to greet them to the Summit Conference.

Overlapping slate that curved upwards to a point reminded Reizo heavily of the architecture of his recently visited Village Hidden in the Glacier. He quietly resolved to take Kazuya and the rest of Squad Thirteen here one day as the trio finally made their way back onto stone ground and into the arched openings. After climbing a hundred stairs the complex stood right at the end of an open bridge, where a band of samurai stood waiting for them.

These samurai wore far more armour than the band Shoryu had slyly mocked over a fortnight ago. Simple facemasks and oversized eyeholes covered their faces, and their identical armour was much bulkier with no bare spots at the armpits, knees or elbows. This made it almost impossible to tell one from the other; in Kazuya's village everyone's face was already visible and painted or scarred armour helped distinguish the more powerful veterans from the inexperienced. Here every samurai was a clone of the next - a number in the small army.

"Halt!" said one of them, striding forward and placing a commanding hand in front of them. The echo generated from the protruding mouthpiece also made him sound identical to the others. "State your name and business."

"Kira Asakura, Tenth Raikage and leader of the Village Hidden in the Clouds." Kira suddenly brought up his walking stick and tapped it to the signature curtained hat he wore, one that bore the seal of the Village. "These two are Reizo and Hatori, my bodyguards."

The samurai immediately bowed and his troop did the same. Reizo sniggered at the fact that even as they bowed their lowest, they could never bend themselves lower than Kira's shrivelled height.

"My apologies Lord Raikage. The Hokage, Kazekage and Lord Kikuchiyo are already present – they await your arrival inside," he explained.

"What of the new Tsuchikage and the Mizukage?" asked Kira, as these were the two leaders he wanted to see the most. Stone and Mist clones had attacked the Cloud - he needed to confirm their innocence.

"They should be arriving shortly my lord."

"Good."

With the pleasantries exchanged the three were guided into the antique building, up another flight of steps and into the conference, a room comprised of a single roundtable with six seats dictating the respective positions of the world leaders. As the Raikage took his seat Reizo took note of those already present.

He knew Lord Kikuchiyo was the Taisho of the Land of Iron, a representative for the other samurai nations and the neutral lands of the ninja world. Reizo also knew he was the catalyst for the conference - a Kage meeting technically only needed two Kage and a Taisho, since the unbiased opinion from the honour-bound samurai was essential to ensure that any resolution reached was just and fair.

He was far younger than Reizo expected, clearly in his early twenties with a shaved head as an unsuccessful attempt to make him appear older. After training Kazuya he knew that the Taisho was an inherited position and so regarded them as lucky that the conference shouldn't receive a young teenager of Shoryu's age at the head of the meeting. He then he shivered upon imagining Shoryu sat in that seat, antagonising everything the Kage said for his own amusement.

As soon as Kira saw Kikuchiyo, doing his best to appear fierce and noble in his helmless armour, the Kage tutted and shook his head in disapproval. He muttered something like "children playing at leading armies now" as he dropped his pack to the floor. Kikuchiyo heard the comment and chose to ignore it, straightening himself out and running a hand over his polished egg of a scalp.

"Kira, so glad you could make it. With all your years I wondered whether you'd even be able to make it past the Three Wolves," called a voice across the room.

"I might not be a spring chicken anymore Peparo, but it'll take more than a path of ice to stop me in my tracks," the Raikage snapped.

Peparo Raan had reigned for ten years as the twelfth Kazekage. With his short, stocky form and his unrivalled skills in both the water element and ranged combat Reizo knew he was the obvious choice, especially when one considered that the eleventh had been his sensei. Touching forty now, the Kazekage's once enormous fro of black hair had since been trimmed to a short series of bushy curls.

Skin just as dark as that hair contrasted against the blinding whites of his teeth and eyes, making him appear formidable even when one failed to notice the majestic, five foot wide longbow strapped to his back. The bow as always was accompanied by two bulging quivers of countless arrows, razor-barbed at the tips to make sure any wound they dealt would stay open and bleeding for the duration of his battles.

Draped over his shoulders was a simple shoal that protected him from the battering winds and sandstorms of the Village Hidden in the Sand. Ragged and torn, it was hardly the attire suitable for a Kage, though Peparo Raan followed in the footsteps of his master in regarding his status as no more important than any other in his village.

"I don't suppose it would," laughed Peparo, his voice deep and powerful as rolling thunder. "I doubt the Three Wolves are capable of something that a hundred years couldn't do."

"You make it sound as if I'm on death's door Lord Kazekage; I've still got plenty of life left in me." Kira turned his nose up at the man, humourless in his arrogance.

"So it would seem," said Peparo. "Enough to send a battalion of clones to my village in the middle of the night like a snivelling coward."

"Gentlemen!" The young lord Kikuchiyo finally showed his steel as he rose to his feet. "You all agreed not to discuss these matters until the other Kage arrive and the conference is in progress. Hold your tongues until the meeting begins."

"I agreed to no such thing," Kira grumbled quietly as the Taisho took his seat again. With no forewarning the old Raikage withdrew the pipe he kept in his second cardigan and lit it. Reizo immediately felt a flush of embarrassment creep over his cheeks; the smoking policy in here was clearly that of zero tolerance, but none would object to such a menial act when a single comment could spark up another argument.

Reizo was hardly surprised to hear that Cloud ninja clones had attacked the Sand as well. He fully understood the Kazekage's reasons for being upset, even if the way he handled it was a little too boisterous for his tastes.

"And what about you Lord Hokage?" asked Kira, blowing a smoke ring over in the third man's direction. "Surely you must have something to say; after all I allegedly attacked _your_ village too."

Everyone in the room save for Kira Asakura was suddenly stunned; the other two Kage and their bodyguards, not to mention Reizo and Hatori. Just what was going on? After all his talk of preaching for a peaceful resolution on the way here, Kira seemed to be actively _looking_ for a fight now that push came to shove. Reizo supposed it was his way of sticking up for himself and defending his dominion, but he didn't have to be such an ass about it.

"I have nothing to say until the others arrive," replied the twelfth Hokage, the same man Kiyoshi Uchiha had regarded as a 'pacifist fool' less than a month ago for not retaliating against the Cloud.

With his long white cloak and shimmering garments the Hokage's status was reflected in his appearance. At Reizo's best guess he was in his mid-fifties, the point where his movements began to slow a little, yet his muscles had not begun to degenerate yet; he was still at average height and he did not walk with a hunch and a walking stick like the century-old Kira Asakura.

A fair complexion showed early signs of aging, with distinct frown lines and shallow wrinkles spreading up from his chin. Silky smooth hair of brown had begun to recede into a noticeable widow's peak, and more than a few greys were visible.

The Hokage's most distinctive features however, were the expressionless, milky white eyes that served as a constant reminder of his family's legendary dojutsu. Hiromasa Hyuga came from an ancient family of the Land of Fire, one whose ancestors had fought and died in service to the ninja for generations and participated in all four shinobi wars.

"Oh, so you're ignoring me huh?" Kira belittled. "You know it's not smart to ignore a Kage."

"I'm not ignoring you," said the Hyuga, indifferently scanning him with cold eyes. "I just refuse to debate until the other Kage arrive."

Kira huffed and crossed his arms. "So you're still preaching all that pacifist nonsense I see. When you get to my age you'll realise that there's a time to mince words and there's a time to speak your mind."

"Age does not always go hand in hand with wisdom," replied the Hokage coolly. Reizo scoffed a laugh and held a hand over his mouth to stop from laughing at Lord Hyuga's incredible burn – he could imagine it coming from Shoryu's mouth. Even the Kazekage noticed Reizo's slip-up and sniggered playfully at the Jonin. Kira was too caught up to notice it though.

"_What did you say?_" he barked, slamming a shaky fist on the table and staggering to his feet. The Raikage hadn't even drawn himself up to full height before Kikuchiyo pointed and brought up his voice to a boom.

"_Sit down _Lord Raikage! One more transgression and I'll have my guards escort you away from here."

As the Raikage muttered something along the lines of "young'uns telling _me _what to do" Reizo put a hand to his forehead and shook in embarrassment. He'd only been there a few minutes; the meeting hadn't even begun yet and the Raikage had managed to annoy almost everyone already.

_This is going to be one long conference_, Reizo decided.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Alright so if you've been on story alert or something you'll probably know already, but this week we've got not one but TWO chapters! I got carried away with this one chapter you see – I really wanted to get the first stage out of the way but I had all this ground to cover before I got round to it, so I split the chapter into two parts. The next chapter then is the first part of the Chunin exams and it's up for your viewing pleasure.

By the way, did anyone else notice the 'damaged and rebuilt bridge' mentioned in Reizo's segment? Fancy hearing the significance? Well it's the site of battle where Sasuke fights Danzo in Part Two and totally ruins the bridge in the process, then after that there's a brief confrontation there with Sasuke against Sakura, Naruto and Kakashi.

Also, those of you familiar with the classic film Seven Samurai (or the steampunk anime adaptation 'Samurai 7') should notice the name Kikuchiyo as one of the seven. Ironically, he's the only one in the movie who isn't a legitimate samurai (In the anime they made him illegitimate by making him a machine). If you haven't seen either I'd definitely recommend them.

Oh and another nod to continuity - the younger Jonin giving his little speech, did anyone pick up on him saying: "ninja throughout the ages have gone on to acquire legendary status for their sense of knowing when to retreat." . . . Gotta love Shikamaru :D

Then there's the two Kage we've just met, and what's that? One of them is a _Hyuga?_ Well, why not? I was sat there for about an hour trying to think of someone to be the Hokage since it's the most well-known title in Naruto, then the obvious choice hit me in the face and it _had _to happen. If you're thinking that he acts like Neji, that's because he's Neji's descendant, pretty cool huh?

So why Neji and not Hinata? Well I'm not normally into romance fanfictions but if I was forced to pair two people up in Naruto it probably would be Naruto and Hinata, and I've already said that I'm not covering his descendants. Hinata is just all kinds of awesome – best female character in the show to me. Why Naruto remains completely oblivious to her and chases that retarded pink-haired masochist instead is a mystery in my mind.

Anyway onward! Go read the next chapter! :D


	18. Chapter 18 The First Stage

Chapter 18: The First Stage

Shoryu had seen many wonders in his young life: his home high beyond the clouds, the hatching of a dragon egg, a legendary firework display and a village nestled at the bottom of a glacier. These things paled in comparison to the sight that greeted him once he stepped out onto the upper deck of the ship.

The longboat, and nine others by its side, lay static on a giant pink sheet that wriggled uncomfortably, sweating some disgusting white foam across its length that engulfed the base of each ship. Red, fleshy walls could be seen miles away on either side that stretched up like a cavern and formed a glistening wet bowl above them. Dangling from that bowl in the sky was what appeared to be an incredible blood-red bell that swayed to and fro like an impatient pendulum.

Gasps of shock resounded around deck as Shoryu pushed his way over to the railings. Looking behind him, two sets of great white squares lay a mile or so behind, bashing together as sunlight peered through their gaps. Right away he theorised what had gone on, but this ghastly scene at the ship's flank confirmed without any doubt where they were: the mouth of the Island Turtle.

"Kazuya," he said, "For once I really _hope _you've spiked my drink."

"Not today Shoryu, but I'll be sure to write that one down." Kazuya stared unblinkingly at the teeth in the faraway distance and then back along the head of the ship, where the lightless cavern of the turtle's throat awaited them.

The voice of the eldest Jonin suddenly continued, still amplified by a microphone. "Alright, everyone make your way off the ship!"

Mass hysteria broke out as the ninja clambered overboard before landing on the bouncy pink ground of the turtle's tongue. Every step produced a frothing volume of saliva to drown the feet of the Genin, meaning they had to remain still to avoid getting their feet soaking wet before the test even begun.

A whole five minutes passed before all two thousand students stood on the pillow-soft ground. Many female Genin and even a few males had to be coaxed into leaving the ships, and once they set foot on the fleshy surface they began to wail and cry about how disgusting this country's Chunin Exams were. Often the first test of a Chunin Exam was a written test; it seemed tame compared to this.

As a small chunk of the fairer sex exploded into tears around her Ayako remained surprisingly calm in spite of the situation; in fact Shoryu seemed to have a harder time coping with this than she did. She was as still and as bold as Kazuya; it worried the boy.

"How does this _not _freak you out?" Shoryu asked. He lifted his feet up and down, watching them sink twelve inches before coming back up with a fresh coat of drool.

"Don't get me wrong, this is gross," said Ayako. "But it's not the end of the world. It's necessary to pass the first test – you know a ninja must be able to survive in any situation."

"Any situation? How often are we going to find ourselves in the mouth of a _giant turtle?_" cried the boy.

"Keep it together Shoryu." Kazuya suddenly drew his ancestor's sword and dropped into stance. "Remember, we have to be on guard for everything."

Shoryu groaned and gripped the hilts of his blades. Around him the teams began to form up, until the only people who remained on the boats were the Jonin who would only see twenty of them again at the finals. They gave one last wave to the parties on their deck before another voice of a ship's Jonin rang clear and loud throughout the mouth of the turtle, echoing across the cavernous walls.

"_Let the first test. . ._"

_Hang on_, wondered Shoryu. Now that he'd finally calmed down he allowed his analytical eyes to dart around the cavern – something didn't quite add up. Each of the ten longboats was stuck deep in five feet of turtle tongue. _Those ships are stuck here. How do they plan on escaping?_

"_BEGIN!" _roared the voice.

Upon the ninja's final words Shoryu's answer presented itself. He heard the distant rushing of water and put two and two together in a matter of seconds. As he turned towards the blackened fissure of the turtle's throat a great mass of water burst forth from it, sweeping towards them across the length of the tongue.

"Ayako!" he cried.

"_Shading Jutsu: Yellow!_" With three hand signs and a simple clap of her hands Ayako conjured up the glassy yellow barrier and placed it firmly between Squad Thirteen and the now-gaping open mouth of the turtle. Four seconds later a waist high wave of water gushed over them. Its force knocked almost everyone off their feet, carrying the ten longboats and a hundred students with it right along the tongue and out towards the mouth.

Instead of joining them though, Squad Thirteen crashed headlong into Ayako's barrier. It cracked slightly under their weight before another dose of yellow from its conjurer reinforced the solid wall. When the tsunami had finally subsided the ships were well on their way out of the mouth; what most students didn't see was the giant bucket of krill and shrimp one of the boats left on its way out.

Here the first test really begun.

After noticing the bucket Shoryu knew their time was short. He slipped his hand quick as he dared into his backpack and withdrew a length of metal wire, unravelling it and tying it in a hasty knot around his wrist.

"Quickly!" He tossed the roll of wire to Ayako, who had also noticed what was about to happen and tied herself into the loop without thinking twice. She then gave it to Kazuya; he hadn't seen the bucket yet, but Shoryu's judgement was good enough for him now. He wrapped the wire around his arm and pulled it tight before severing it with the double-edged sword.

Around them multi-coloured jets, familiar elements and swiftly executed hand signs snapped together as the individual teams began to think of a way to stay as a group after the inevitable happened. Only a few of them had settled on Shoryu's idea, and many more just glanced around, confused as to the intentions of the other ninja.

Squad Thirteen finished tying themselves together just in time to witness the walls caving in towards each other; giant constricting muscles and the trembling of that dangling bell-like tonsil in the sky could mean only one thing. Since the bucket of shrimp looked like a tasty morsel, the Island Turtle decided to swallow them whole.

A force stronger than any Shoryu had ever felt before punched the wind out of young ninja and knocked him off his feet spinning faster than a Jonin's shuriken. Like the flush of an enormous drain the void of the turtle's throat claimed almost two thousand ninja before any realised what had happened; they fell flailing into the depths of darkness faster than speeds they ever thought possible.

The ninja who hadn't managed to bind themselves to their teammates were separated from them in the blink of an eye; nothing they could do now in this giant tumble dryer would guide them back to their comrades. Many that _had _managed to tie themselves together were subjected to an even worse pain than solitude. Shoryu's wrist suddenly pulled him in a completely new direction with such a force that he thought his hand might tear off in that instant. Ayako had gone one way and Kazuya another, and the sharp steel wire that held them together suddenly bounced them back into one another.

In a tangled heap Squad Thirteen fell through the darkness until they hit what felt like a near-vertical waterslide. Bodily fluids leaked down into their new claustrophobic chamber, forming a river over what felt like the same fleshy material as the turtle's tongue. The air in Shoryu's face began to ripple his skin as they hastened to even faster speeds, and the waterfall that crashed around his ears soaked his clothes at what appeared to be sub-zero temperatures thanks to the incredible speed.

With the surroundings of a lightless cavern, not a single detail could be seen as he hurtled through the depths, but somehow a hand managed to latch onto his wrist and stop the agonising pain that ruled it. From just one touch he knew the hand was Ayako's, and in her other hand at the head of the slide must've been Kazuya.

"_Somebody slow us down!_" he called over the deafening fury of the waterfall.

"_Ice Style: Frozen Wall!_" He heard Kazuya chant. The whipping chill of their climbing speeds suddenly became much colder as Shoryu found his legs encased in a freezer. Struggling as hard as he could would do nothing; from the thighs down he was trapped in temperatures so cold that his legs began to go numb. Add that to the fact that their speed had actually _increased _and his heart rate was sent soaring well into triple digits.

Trapped in the darkness Shoryu plummeted until a few moments later when his first sign of hope appeared. A familiar globe of reddish, radiant light was suddenly created ahead of him. From the crimson rays Ayako's determined expression was illuminated; she worked quickly on smearing the light over several kunai knives from her pockets before throwing them to the corners of their icy prison.

Total darkness consumed the team for just one more second until a loud clap reverberated off the walls.

"_Shading Jutsu: Red Snare!_"

Upon her command the four kunai lit up like roman candles, sizzling away with a venomous hiss and brightening the sewer-like tunnel for all to see. Around them the throbbing muscles and man-sized veins wriggled around as they went deeper and deeper into the turtle itself. Behind them Shoryu could clearly see at least another ten students who'd fallen down this particular steep channel; they tumbled down without any plan, and most of them had lost their teammates the moment the Island Turtle decided to swallow them.

As Squad Thirteen passed by a flailing ninja, the shinobi made a grab for their makeshift boat only to find that his hand slipped away from it. That reminded Shoryu, what _was _this contraption Kazuya made? It had been far too dark to see when he first conjured it, but now that Ayako's candles lit up the stage the true horror of the samurai's creation became clear.

In a single file Squad Thirteen were firmly encased within a ten foot long bed of solid ice, still joined together by their left wrists.

"Kazuya this is ice!" complained Ayako, pointing out the obvious flaw in the samurai's idea; he didn't seem to mind though, in fact Kazuya was the only one who seemed to be enjoying the experience.

"Yeah? So what?" he called back.

"So we've _sped _up you idiot!" Shoryu had gone from highly anxious to out of his mind. He knew that if they hit something solid at these speeds they'd just become an unsightly stain on the inner walls of the Island Turtle; he didn't doubt that Ayako and Kazuya knew it too, but what bothered him most was that they didn't seem to mind so much.

"At least we're in control now!" Kazuya shouted. "Get ready there's a dip coming!"

Kazuya's warning was hardly useful, because as soon as Shoryu received the message his stomach flipped over and his heart stopped completely. The drop they'd been sent down curved out into a level plane faster than Shoryu could process before ascending back into a high incline. Now that the vertigo was gone Shoryu finally became accustomed to the fact that he was pretty much riding the worst roller coaster of all time.

He couldn't help but laugh after noticing how wrong he'd been; behind him, the ninja that hadn't gained enough speed decelerated into a stop behind them, thrashing around and trying to find something to climb on before they went over backwards down the slide they'd briefly ascended. Riding on ice meant that Squad Thirteen lost little traction and continued to climb the rise. They still slowed down, but at a considerably slower rate; Shoryu reckoned they had another thirty seconds at least before they stopped completely.

Ayako threw another set of kunai to bring more light to the cavern. "Any more bright ideas before we start falling?"

"If we're lucky we'll reach the top before we run out of speed," said Kazuya. "But once we're there I doubt we'll stay on high ground for very long."

Shoryu shivered; the idea of falling like that again made him queasy just to consider it. Determined to avoid such a drop, he cast his mind back to what the Jonin had said earlier. _The first stage requires you to get safely to the surface_. It seemed so obvious when he stopped to think about it, but in all the commotion the wise elder's words had completely skipped his mind.

That must've been the point of this phase; it wasn't just to check whether they could survive in any environment, it was also made to test their resourcefulness and whether they could recall major details under pressure.

"We need to look for an opening somewhere!" he said. "Once we reach the top of this hill there should be a way to get to the surface in sight! Ayako, be ready to light everything up when we get there!"

Ayako nodded, but part of Shoryu's plan contained a fatal flaw. They were still encased in ice. "And if we see an opening how are we supposed to reach it? We can't jump with our legs in this thing, and the moment we get out of it we'll just slip back down the river!"

"Leave it to me," muttered Kazuya.

Shoryu had no idea what kind of trick his samurai teammate had up his sleeve, but if anything he trusted Kazuya more than anyone. Shoryu didn't have any kind of secret jutsu for this situation and he knew Ayako's basic powers didn't have anything that would help either – Kazuya's abilities on the other hand encompassed a wide range of practical applications. Nothing would've surprised him.

Another unbearable ten seconds passed; the speed of the ice block had slowed dramatically, and looking behind him Shoryu noticed that the steep incline they'd just conquered began to look more and more welcoming, like the gaping jaws of a shark looming closer. For one heart stopping moment he thought they'd stopped and closed his eyes, preparing himself for a change of direction.

To his utmost pleasure the change never came; their road smoothed out once again into an unusually flat twist of the turtle's guttural, prompting Ayako to fill her hands with a giant ball of colour and use up more than a whole quarter of her red scroll.

"_Shading Jutsu: Scatter Flare!_"

Like a rapidly blooming flower countless bursts of red energy jetted from Ayako's palms in a display of crimson fireworks equally beautiful to those Shoryu had witnessed at Kateri. They lit up the tubular tunnel of the Island Turtle, revealing the glistening stream and the curved, dripping wet walls of muscle that stretched ahead as far as the eye could see. After that it was only a matter of seconds before she saw the opening.

"There!" she cried, directing the explosive flares towards a patch of the close ceiling where a clearly visible stretch of thinner, pinkish membrane lay.

"Alright everyone, remember what it was like to scale the Glacial Drop!" commanded the samurai. It wasn't a question; he was quite literally asking them to recall one particular sensation on command as he wove together at least a dozen hand signs. Suddenly the block of ice disappeared from underneath Shoryu's feet, and just when he thought the current of the water slide would sweep him away Kazuya slapped his hands the ground.

"_Ice Style: Liquid Freeze!_"

Beneath Squad Thirteen the rapids immediately stopped as a cool palette of ice spread out from Kazuya's hands, engulfing everything around him save for the thin tissue upon the roof. Blood, spit, sweat, gastric acid and other bodily fluids that made up the stream were all liquid based; freezing them was a simple matter to Kazuya, although it required him to keep his hands pressed to the ground at all times.

If he released his jutsu then the incoming stream just beyond his range would flow over and thaw the river in a heartbeat, so he remained as still as a rock whilst Shoryu and Ayako began to readjust themselves to walking on ice.

"Get up there," he ordered, keeping his eyes closed to maintain focus. "Throw me a rope down once you get through."

"Sure thing." With his right hand Shoryu drew his primary sword and severed the wire that held the three of them together, knowing that if he forgot about it then they could easily drag Kazuya out of his jutsu. Making haste the two ninja ran up the pipe's walls and to the ceiling, directing chakra into their feet as they inspected the salmon coloured oval, transparent under Ayako's steady sphere of light.

Without hesitation Shoryu plunged his sword into it and cut around the edges. He cringed as the inch-thick peel of tissue flat-packed to the icy ground before he clambered through the opening. Another feeling of vertigo claimed him; transferring from walking upside down to standing the right way up was never something he'd ever used to, but he shook it off and helped his teammate through.

From Ayako's pack a handy length of thin, strong rope was then retrieved and thrown back into the chasm, landing by Kazuya's feet. As soon as he released the jutsu the tirade of vile water bowled towards him in a great wave, and yet by the time it reached him he was already long gone, hauled up through the opening after grabbing the rope.

Light from Ayako's few remaining kunai and a brief firework display lit up the room they now inhabited to reveal a sight far grander and more welcoming than the sickening scene of a turtle's innards. They'd reached the inside of the turtle's shell, a smooth, hollow hall of unblemished beige that stretched for miles in every direction with no ending in sight.

Pink patches of membrane like the one they'd just passed through littered the ground every twenty paces or so; the silhouettes of half a dozen teams in Ayako's low light could be seen climbing out and taking in the incredible view. There were no chambers or individual rooms, just a vast plane of flat land and a roof that curled up into a high bowl, just as they expected the inside of a turtle shell would.

Like the openings on the ground, the high roof was broken here and there by gnarly brown fingers; they wired their way across the ceiling in all directions, spreading out from individual central points like a thunderbolt. It took Shoryu a few moments to realise exactly what they were: roots.

Of course – the island had its own ecosystem; trees and grass grew naturally from the surface, fed by nutrients provided by the turtle's shell. Those roots would lead up to trees of their own back in the open air, and that would be their ticket out. Only one problem remained.

"How the hell are we supposed to get up there?" muttered Ayako, voicing the opinions of all who saw it that day.

At their lowest points the roots were forty five metres up in the air, hardly a jumping distance. The shell would continue in all directions for miles upon miles; and even if they _did_ manage to find one of the sides, walking up it would be another story. Since the trees would only grow on the top of the shell, if they walked up one of the rims it could take them hours to find another root, and walking on walls was hardly something they could keep up for that long.

Shoryu made a brief tally in his head of the tools and abilities they each possessed. To his dismay none of them had powers that would grant them short-term flight or advanced jumping. Ayako's yellow barriers wouldn't be able to support three people to make a staircase of sorts and his own wind jutsu couldn't carry them that far. Kazuya might have been able to fashion something by making a rising pillar of ice, although then again forty five metres was a long way – it wasn't a distance the samurai could comfortably reach, and Shoryu supposed they'd need his chakra to get through the tree.

His hand crept behind his back and he pulled out the first thing that came to mind – his windmill shuriken. The boy flipped it open and spun it absently around his fingers as he began to ponder.

"You know the one thousand eight hundred students who don't pass this stage?" mused Ayako. "How do you think they get out of here? They won't all die will they? That Jonin said that only twenty die."

Kazuya wondered for a moment before a grin spread across his face. He replied, "The turtle only eats fish so I doubt it could properly digest a human – a few clothes will probably be scorched away and they might have light burns for a while, but after that I imagine they'll go through a. . ." He searched for the phrase to put his theory delicately. "A less glamorous exit," was the wording he settled on.

Ayako's expression was blank for a second or two before the horrific reality of Kazuya's statement became clear. She shook her head fiercely. "That's disgusting; no wonder people who fail this test never retake it! We'd better think of something – I hate to sound like a killjoy but I am _not _leaving this exam in turtle crap."

"None of us plan on doing that, just let me think," said Shoryu. His gaze wandered over to the other groups who seemed to be just as lost as they were. Kazuya closed his eyes and stood firm in the darkness whereas Ayako distantly twiddled with the length of rope they'd used to pull him out. Shoryu looked to the rope, and then back to the shuriken in his hand before his mind went haywire in calculation.

The roof was forty five metres high; Ayako's length of fine rope was thirty, and so were the bundles he and Kazuya both had stashed away in their packs. Three thirties made ninety metres – twice the distance of Squad Thirteen to the roof and the perfect length for a rappelling line. Clearly this was one of the many methods intended for the exam; Shoryu was only happy he'd been so quick to figure it out.

"Alright give me your ropes," he said, slinging off his pack and locating his own. Ayako handed him the green, fine measure and Kazuya did the same after a little shuffling around in his bag. After a few tries he managed to thread his own rope through the finger hole of his windmill shuriken like a sewing needle, and following that it was just a matter of tying the other two ropes to either end of his to create a single ninety metre rope with a windmill shuriken at its dead-centre.

"Ahh, I get it now," observed Ayako, quietly clapping him.

Kazuya however still looked puzzled. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Just watch and you'll see," said Shoryu.

As confident as he was from creating such a genius idea, the throw was still one of the most awkward Shoryu had ever made. Forty five metres was a long enough distance on its own, not to mention he'd never had to throw a shuriken _up _before and there was the annoyance that he didn't have a finger slot in which to hold it anymore.

Nevertheless, Shoryu's aim was true. After a short run the boy hurled the windmill shuriken straight up towards the roof; for once the four-bladed star's path was a straight line with the absence of wind down in the shell. A slow flight took place before the weapon stuck firm into one of the thicker roots above them, followed by its opposing lengths of fine rope dropping limply to the ground. Pulling one side down would make the other rise – it was a simple enough idea.

"You mean to pull each other up using that?" asked Kazuya. "It won't hold; as soon as we put our weight on it your shuriken will come down on top of u-"

"_Blue!_" cried Ayako. A clap that resonated across the shell signalled the birth of a clear blue javelin of chakra, one that shot straight up into the air and skewered Shoryu's shuriken deeper into the root, securely locking it into place.

Shoryu then marched over to the two ropes and tugged hard before jumping up and dangling his entire weight on them. No matter how much he pulled the shuriken never moved an inch.

"Beautiful – not a bad makeshift line if I do say so myself," he noted.

"You're welcome," said Ayako.

"Hang on, you're forgetting something." Ever the pessimist, Kazuya joined Shoryu and demonstrated the contraption he'd created by tugging on one side at a time. "Pull on one of them and the other rises."

Shoryu grinned and slapped Kazuya on the back. "That's the general idea."

"So to get up, a person grabs hold of one rope and the others pull on the second one down here. If that's the case, then whoever goes last won't have a spotter to help them out – they'd have to make it up on their own."

Shoryu nodded his head. "I thought about that."

"I'll go last if you want," volunteered the samurai.

"No way. Sure, you're easily the most capable, but we'll need your freezing to smash our way through that tree at the top. You've already used enough energy by now and whoever climbs that thing on their own should be exhausted by the time they get to the top."

"I'll be able to do both," assured Kazuya.

"I'm not saying you can't, we just can't afford to take any chances. You should go first." Shoryu looked back up at the height and deemed it safe enough. He'd managed worse in his training after all. "I'll go last."

Finally Kazuya nodded in reluctance and took his place by beginning to tie one of the ropes around his belt. Shoryu's reasoning was solid and so he deferred to the boy's judgement, though apparently Ayako didn't feel the same way.

"Hang on," she said, placing her hands across her hips. "Who says you get to go last?"

Shoryu looked to Kazuya to support. None was to be found – he just shrugged and left it to the ninja to reply by himself. "Erm. . ." he staggered. "Don't you think it's the best idea?"

"Enlighten me." Ayako wouldn't budge, forcing Shoryu to reveal his views for all to see.

"Well. . . I mean, I'd have a much easier time of it - it's a well-known fact that males have more upper body strength than females," he explained.

"That's right," said the girl. She paused for a moment before suddenly slapping Shoryu upside his head. "But you're not dealing with just 'some girl' here! You're dealing with the next Raikage!"

Shoryu nursed his head and shrank back in fear. "Don't you think you're overreacting? We don't have time to decide who gets to risk their lives here! I didn't say-"

"Exactly, you didn't _say _anything. You just _assumed_ that because I'm a girl I couldn't do it! I'll pull _you_ up second; let me go last and save your chivalry for someone who needs it."

With a great sigh Shoryu looked back up to the ceiling. For him the climb would be a struggle; for her it would no doubt become an ordeal. Maybe if he'd just _offered_ to go last instead of automatically putting himself there he might not have been in this situation. It was too late to go back now though; if only he'd worded his plan better.

"Are you sure?" he said, still staring at the ceiling. "It's a long way."

"Do I have to hit you again?"

"Fine, fine," resolved Shoryu.

Satisfied, Ayako approached the second rope. Between the two of them, hoisting up Kazuya all the way to the ceiling was no trouble at all. With their combined strength they heaved him a full three yards from every pull until he reached the roof in little time. The samurai dangled up there for a few moments before swinging his feet up and planting them on the roof, using one of the roots for support as he found the balance of chakra necessary to walk on the ceiling.

Once he found it Kazuya undid the rope around his waist and began to thread it back through the locked shuriken. As the two lengths became level again and brushed the ground Shoryu gave Ayako one last glimpse.

"Are yo-"

"-_Shoryu_." Ayako bared a fist in warning.

"Fair enough!"

Pulling up Shoryu was another matter altogether. He knew for a fact that he had at least thirty pounds on her, but with her mind made up the girl was left to hoist him up all by herself. Every wrench was a struggle – even from up high Shoryu could see the toll it took on her as those slim arms supported weight they shouldn't have been able to carry. It was a much slower process, but to her credit he finally arrived by Kazuya's side upon the roof after taking a few seconds to get acquainted with ceiling walking.

Shoryu looped the knot of his shuriken again to prep Ayako's ascent, ensuring that both ropes remained fixed no matter how much pressure was applied. Down below he could see she was already sweating; leaning over with her hands on her thighs she took slow, deep breaths to steady herself.

"Kazuya." Shoryu ducked his way under a root and pointed to the centre from where they sprung – the entry point for the tree. "Start freezing that when you get a minute. If you turn them into blocks of ice we shouldn't have any problem smashing through with our swords."

"Sure thing," answered Kazuya, casually pulling off hand signs as he trekked across the ceiling.

"Take as much time as you need down there!" Shoryu then echoed down.

Kazuya's string of seals was cut off by his palm slapping his forehead. "You just keep digging a deeper hole don't you?" he mumbled.

The boy cocked an eyebrow; he'd been sincere in his advice, although the way he said it was ambiguous to say the least – Ayako seemed to think he was patronising her.

"What's that? 'Take as much time as you need'? You think I need a break?" she demanded. "Alright that's it! I'm gonna come up there and kick your ass!"

Another sigh escaped Shoryu as the already weary Ayako leapt up onto the rope and began to climb. Determination governed her expression; she put one hand in front of the other over and over again, and every time she pulled herself up by another half-step it became harder and harder to climb. Regardless of the pain she persevered as her arms and shoulders began to sorely cramp.

By the time she reached the halfway point it looked as though someone was stabbing daggers into the corners of her collarbone. She did her best to hide it by replacing the look of agony with one of resolve, pushing herself higher with the expression of an angry bee. The physical trauma however was impossible to hide. Her arms shook like those of a century-old man reaching for his cane, sending tiny tremors along her body that hindered her progress even further.

Despite all this her scaling of the rope was solid. Three quarters of the way up and she still carried on climbing. From the bottom to the top the ascent was the equivalent height of eight storeys of a building. If Ayako fell now she'd die for sure, and neither Shoryu nor Kazuya would be able to save her if that happened. Spurred on by the thought of death if she failed Ayako continued; above her Shoryu reached out his hand as she inched closer and closer, though by the time she could reach him something completely unforeseen changed the game.

Beside her the limp, unused side rope was suddenly severed. A kunai streaked right through it and buried itself in a solid root only three inches right of Kazuya's head. Looking up, Shoryu's fearful expression confirmed to Ayako that they were under attack. With a muffled sound of pain she fed the rope through her arms and clutched it tight in the crevice of her elbow, giving her both hands needed to clap and swing around.

"_Yellow!_" she cried.

The barrier whirred into existence just in time to stop a sudden storm of projectiles. Shuriken, kunai and senbon bounced from the transparent wall, and it only took a second for Ayako to realise that without it she and Shoryu would've ended up with more than a few holes in them.

Looking through the glassy, half-broken barrier allowed the team a yellow-tinted look at their assailants. Of course; it could be no one else – Kouta Renazawa was joined not far away by his two mysterious Mist counterparts, Norio and Suzume Oyama. The competitive second stage hadn't even begun yet and they were already trying to kill Squad Thirteen. A single lapse of concentration at these heights would send them crashing to their doom.

"_Kazuya!_" cried Shoryu. "Speed it up!"

Kazuya didn't need to be told; he was already ditching his slow-spreading freeze work and easing into three familiar hand signs. "_Ice Style: Cryo Blast Stream!_"

Tearing, cracking hisses echoed around the shell as Kazuya blasted the tree's base with all the chakra he could spare. More projectiles pelted at the barrier as Ayako reinforced it, but the problem was obvious: to cast the barrier she needed both hands in order to clap, yet climbing the rope also required both of them. If things continued like this she'd just simply hang there helplessly until one of them broke through.

Deciding that her life was more important than her chakra, Ayako used the brief moments in which Kouta's squad retrieved another projectile to dissipate the barrier and shimmy her way up. Once she heard the distant whizz of shuriken blitzing towards them she stopped again and conjured up the yellow. This happened at least six times; the breaks in the enemy team's attacks were so short that she only managed to ascend a few inches every time they paused to reload, but progress was progress.

Drained of almost all energy and chakra, a long minute passed before Ayako was within arm's length of the top. She tucked the rope under her elbow once more and clapped the yellow to life just in time to deflect another tirade of shuriken. Looking up showed that Shoryu was in reach, and just when she grabbed the rope again for a final heave her stomach sank into a pit.

She'd turned off the shield too early; a final kunai knife from the last shower whizzed over her head and cut the rope she clung to, like it was no tougher than wet paper. With her heart in her throat Ayako plunged, crying out and making desperate grabs for anything that would stop her falling to her doom. She closed her eyes and prepared for the worst right up until a hand reached down and snatched her from the jaws of death.

"_Gotcha!_"

Shoryu, still fixed to the ceiling and upside-down on his tiptoes, had caught her left hand as she fell. Looking down Ayako saw the terrifying scene of what would happen if the boy dropped her. A moment later and the sound of Kazuya burying his sword into the frozen base of the tree crashed out like the simultaneous shattering of a thousand mirrors. Shards of ice rained down from the opening and clattered to the ground as a shower of gleaming diamonds.

Natural light – the kind Shoryu never thought he'd see again, poured into the turtle's shell like a heavenly spotlight. Squad Thirteen's gaze though, was now firmly fixed on the enemy team down below. Each of them spun a triad of shuriken around their fingers, yet for some reason they made no effort to attack.

"What are they waiting for?" asked Kazuya.

"Don't move," Shoryu ordered, glancing from the samurai to his right and then down to the kunoichi hanging from his right hand. "They're waiting for us to head for the opening – the moment our backs are turned they'll make their move."

"So what do we do?" hissed Ayako, unnerved with being suspended like fish bait by one hand over forty five metres of open air.

Shoryu narrowed his eyes, leering towards the smug expression of Kouta Renazawa. "Attack back whilst we still have the chance; it's the last thing they'd expect and it'll give us an opportunity to move," he said under his breath. "But the two of us can't make hand signs like this – Kazuya, it's up to you."

"About that." The Kazuya looked down at his hands before coolly replying, "I'm pretty much all out of chakra. Seriously I might be able to stick to this ceiling for another fifteen seconds at best."

"You're telling us this _NOW?_" Shoryu screamed, falling into hysterics yet again. "And sound more WORRIED! We're about to _DIE!_"

In spite of his deductions though, Shoryu was wrong about one thing. Whilst it was true that he couldn't form hand signs with one hand clasped around Ayako's, the aspiring Raikage _could_ attack with one hand. The Shading Jutsu was already active; she didn't require any more hand signs, only a hard, flat impact of organic matter to ignite the colour. Since clapping her palms together was impossible in her situation Ayako knew she'd have to improvise.

Without a word the girl shaded a giant mass of red into her free right hand; almost half of the whole crimson scroll would be used up in just one attack, making the swirling chakra ball close to a full metre in diameter.

"Wait, what are you doing?" asked Shoryu.

Ayako grinned and winked. "I need to spark up the colour. Don't drop me!"

"What do you-"

Too late. Shoryu's query was cut short as Ayako reached up her hand landed a powerful slap across his cheek. The colour surged to life and trembled in her hand, threatening to explode if she didn't throw it right away. Luckily she'd already aimed right down at the three students who'd tried and failed to end her life.

"_Shading Jutsu: Scatter Flare!"_

Fireworks erupted with a heavy recoil from Ayako's palm as a sea of whizzing red sparks blasted away at the ground. The three below separated, rolling, blocking and sidestepping what reds they could see before being struck by those they couldn't.

"_Now!_" she cried.

The ground of the turtle's shell was completely illuminated by the blinding display of the Scatter Flare, and as Kouta and Suzume withdrew from the attack the perfect moment to escape had arrived. Kazuya heaved himself into the tree's opening without thinking twice and Shoryu used all his strength to sling Ayako there after a final shout of effort.

Following his two comrades Shoryu scrambled over to the shattered base of the tree. When he began to make his way through however, the sharp stab of two blades suddenly surged across his left arm. Twin shuriken had hit him – one slashed by his bicep and the other rooted itself in his triceps with a splash of blood. It was hardly anything life threatening; Shoryu knew this, yet the sudden pain caused him to lose focus and disrupted the flow of chakra to his feet.

He would've been killed for sure if it weren't for Ayako and Kazuya reaching down and seizing him by an arm each. Together they pulled him up into the sunlight and out of harm's reach. Once clear the three collapsed to the warm grass in a mixture of pain and fatigue. Finally they were safe – half an hour in the belly of the turtle felt the longest day of their lives.

A whole five minutes passed before Shoryu sat up and pulled the shuriken from his arm. A small river of blood leaked from it and onto the grass as he chomped his lip in agony, stopping it eventually with a bandage from his pack that he pulled to with his teeth.

Now that a little chakra had been recovered Kazuya took it upon himself to seal the hole they'd emerged from with a boulder of ice so thick that even if Kouta's team did follow them, it would take them hours to break through.

Shoryu got back to his feet; to Kazuya's amusement it wasn't the shuriken wound that he nursed, it was the blush-coloured cheek where Ayako had struck him. It was as if his mental wounds were far more severe than the physical. "Did you have slap me that hard?" he checked.

"Nope," confessed the girl, smiling sweetly. "But you deserved it." With the back of her hand she mopped her wet brow and let out a sigh, defeated. "And that was just the first test. . ."

"At least took on the bright side," offered Shoryu.

Kazuya turned. "We're exhausted, fed up and we've got a crazy squad of ninja after us. I'm not seeing a bright side – care to enlighten us?"

The grinning Shoryu eventually replied, "Whatever happens after now, at least we didn't go out through the 'less glamorous' exit."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Hi again! So Squad Thirteen braved the innards of the Island Turtle and have finally made it to land, nearly being killed in the process and almost ending up as turtle crap. Fun times! Originally I thought about doing a written exam like the one we know, but I figured it would be way too obvious. I wanted to do something different, and I don't imagine that reading a written exam would be most thrilling.

Ayako was _badass _in this chapter! Or stubborn and arrogant, depending on how you look at it. Either way she's been far more prominent recently than she had been in the past and it's something I want to make regular.

Aside from pointing out how much of a massive dick Kouta and his crew are, there really isn't much to say about this chapter itself. It was just really fun to write and I had a great time thinking it up, but there's one thing that I _do _have to mention. . .

I have a bone to pick with the Naruto series. If you're not up to date then you might want to stop reading here because there are –SPOILERS- regarding the latest chapters of manga. . . And strong language.

Alright, basically these last two chapters seem to have revealed that the big villain is in fact _not_ Madara Uchiha, but someone else entirely. Madara's body has been appeared on the battlefield in the opposing army, revived by Edo Tensei and controlled by Kabuto whilst the guy behind the mask who we _thought _was Madara heads in a different direction. . . Which causes a problem for me because I already stated earlier on in the fic that Madara Uchiha was the main enemy two hundred years ago!

Well thanks a lot Kishimoto. I expected you might call me or even take me out to dinner before you decided to bend me over and _fuck _me! XD Ehh I'm just kidding, it _should_ be fine really. I only mentioned Madara once so maybe when the real villain gets revealed I'll just go back and change it. . . Still an inconvenience though; stupid Naruto and its messed up plotlines :/ I guess there are plenty of other fanfics that have suffered from this twist far worse than I have, but that's what you get for writing for an ongoing show I suppose.


	19. Chapter 19 The Second Stage

Chapter 19: The Second Stage

"_What are you doing? _Keep running you moron!"

"As if! _Cryo Blast Justu!_"

Three long days had passed since Squad Thirteen emerged victorious from the depths of the Island Turtle's insides. In that time they'd struggled living alone; just staying alive was a two-part tussle that involved fending for themselves whilst at the same time covering their tracks and avoiding the other ninja who'd succeeded. One person had to be awake at all times – even in the darkness of nightfall they could be attacked, so surviving was all about strategy.

Should they light a fire and make themselves comfortable to gain a few extra hours sleep? Or should they spare themselves the risk of an attack and endure a cold night to awake tired and irritated? These kinds of questions were posed to them every other hour. Aside from countless arguments during the first two days they'd just barely managed to get by with little incident, but keeping a low profile became difficult when a samurai was on board.

At first light on the third day Shoryu had gone foraging for whatever looked edible in the close jungle when the sound of a marching army of heavy footfalls splashed across a nearby stream. Closer inspection proved that a great herd of two-headed rhinos migrated east. He'd roused the others and silently they pursued the thirty-strong army of two tonne beasts in the hope that they might lead them back to their Alpha.

Twenty Alpha creatures existed on the island, and each of them possessed a key to open one of the doors to the third stage. In the words of their Jonin advisor, these Alpha creatures were the 'biggest and meanest beasts of their species'. After tracking the rhinos until dusk Squad Thirteen had gotten their wish; they'd ended up in a rocky, airy clearing where the herd made their bed, and at the head of the flock the most colossal being that Shoryu had ever laid eyes on (save of course for the Island Turtle) nestled by the bank of a river.

With its towering height even when laying prone and leathery black hide that looked as tough as gemstone the dangers of facing this thing became all too apparent. This was nothing short of a Jonin's opponent, although if all went to plan they'd never end up facing him in open combat. Flies buzzed around his two horned skulls and he unconsciously swatted them away with his ears. Occasionally one of his four eyes would wink open and look around the clearing.

Squad Thirteen had stayed behind the rocks, avoiding detection and waiting for the right opportunity when everything was asleep to snag the key and run whilst they had the chance. They might have even succeeded if Kazuya hadn't trudged out in front of the pack, drawn his sword and pointed it towards the Alpha.

"You'll be my opponent!" He'd screamed at the thirty metre long quadruped monstrosity.

After seeing that his ancestor's sword did nothing to the solid hide of the two-headed rhino Squad Thirteen bolted back through the jungle at full speed, Ayako and Shoryu wailing into the forest. They leapt from branch to branch, pursued by the rampaging stampede of fearsome creatures that simply ploughed through the trees they'd just jumped from.

They ran for some three miles until the rest of the herd backed away, but still the Alpha gored at full speed after them, uprooting every tree that got in his way with a great heave of his two horns. After Shoryu's manic screams drove Kazuya over the edge he stopped and blasted a column of ice at his foe.

"I told you it wouldn't work! Hurry up or we're dead!" cried Shoryu.

The samurai snarled in bitter resentment as he grudgingly hopped up to the branch of a nearby tree, narrowly avoiding impalement as the first head of the giant rhinoceros ploughed right into the spot he'd previously stood. That giant bony horn, twice as tall as Kazuya himself, ripped apart the earth, showering heavy clumps of soil and grass into the forest. Kazuya turned and was about to jump after his comrades when the second head careered his way.

He fell, attempting to jump from empty air and grabbing hold of nothingness as the branch beneath him was torn from right under his feet. Splinters and fingers of wood cracked into existence around him as if in slow-motion; when he hit the floor on his side the samurai knew right away that he was done for if someone didn't help him. A leg the girth of two tree trunks smashed into his back before he could rise. Being kicked from a leg that strong drove the wind from his lungs in an instant, and the sword in his hand clattered somewhere to the forest floor.

"Kazuya!" Shoryu stopped in his tracks and darted back toward the site of battle. "Idiot!" he cursed aloud. He watched the two-headed giant charge with a horrified stare – even if he pushed his body to the limits there was nothing he could do to get there in time and stop his best friend from being trampled.

"_Blue!" _cried a voice from below.

Of course – Ayako was still in the game, but her actions scarcely served to make the situation any better. She appeared seemingly out of nowhere, dashing to the ground some twenty paces away from Kazuya and letting rip a powerful javelin of sharp blue chakra. The attack, like all of them, did little good. To Shoryu the chakra spear looked like it had been honed to the sharpest point, yet it merely glanced off the diamond-hard exterior of the Alpha and failed to break even the first layer of skin.

What it _did_ manage to do was catch the attention of the great beast. It slowed to a halt and turned one of its heads in a cold glare at the kunoichi before leading the way and careering towards her instead of the samurai.

"_Wind Style: Air Slash Jutsu!_"

Just as he expected, Shoryu's attack did even less damage than Ayako's. The second head turned his way and once again the path of the Alpha's rampage was redirected.

_Crap! _The boy cursed to himself as the beast loomed closer. _We're just passing it between one another!_

Another blue from Ayako's scroll bounced off the rear of the charging rhinoceros and a second Cryo Blast from the persistent samurai streamed its way, but this time the Alpha's mind was set. It continued to accelerate towards him with greater haste now, leaving Shoryu cowering and defenceless to all one hundred tonnes of storming, two-horned fury.

"_Shoryu!_" he heard his teammates say.

None of it was any use; as much as they tried Kazuya and Ayako simply could not divert the path of the lumbering rhino. Those twin horns looked less than inviting, and so Shoryu closed his eyes and crossed his swords in front of him, preparing for the worst. If these were to be his last moments at least he'd go out like a warrior, with his blades in his hands and his screaming mouth firmly shut.

"_Ninja Art: Castoff!_"

A boom accompanied a shockwave in echoing across the forest, sending countless flocks of fleeing birds to the air. When Shoryu finally opened his eyes he wasn't dead – he was still holding his ground with his shaking hands rattling his swords together like cutlery in an earthquake, and he wasn't alone. Someone stood ahead of him – the speaker who had let off a jutsu moments before Shoryu's potential death. Even more interesting was the fact that the weighty drum beat of the rhino's charge had suddenly disappeared. Shoryu took in the situation.

A girl stood on his branch two steps ahead, using a single hand to stop the charging leviathan in its tracks. No doubt as a side-effect of that strange jutsu she used, the girl's stopping arm had swelled into a grotesque, muscular form thicker than her own body, ripped with throbbing veins and a hand that resembled a giant's.

"_Transfer!"_

Suddenly her left arm shrank down to a normal size, with the right arm taking its place as the hulking monstrosity. She pushed it forward to the horn of the rhino.

"_Displace!"_

Both arms returned to normal this time, but the effects of doing so were severe indeed. Shoryu felt a huge force almost knock him off his feet as an impact erupted from the girl's right hand, tearing a bloody gash into the face of the rhino and forcing its first head to recoil with a rumbling noise that Shoryu could only assume was reserved for pain.

"Jinga!" she called out suddenly.

The rhino reared its ugly second head for another attempt at goring the two until its battered first head veered it away in another direction. Another ninja, this one a stout male, had appeared by the left hind leg of the Alpha, swatting the essential key in an instant and attracting the attention of the furious beast. It reared up and bolted for him with a scream when the mysterious girl shouted again.

"Yuudai!"

"Got it!" Only when he responded did Shoryu notice a third and final newcomer perched in a nearby tree. He dropped to the ground in an instant before weaving together a multitude of hand signs and slapping the forest floor with a chant of his personal jutsu.

"_Water Style: Flash Flood Jutsu!_"

"Come on!" Before Shoryu could question it, the girl tugged him by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him off the branch to plummet twenty feet to the ground below. He barely managed to land on both feet; his soles stung uncomfortably and his left ankle gave a jolt of pain as he twisted it slightly, but this was nothing compared to the following event.

He turned to bark a comment at his kunoichi saviour when three feet of rushing water suddenly knocked him off his feet and sent him whirling through the flat jungle at speeds faster than he'd liked. Instantly he was reminded of the sickening rollercoaster of the Island Turtle's stomach. Now wasn't the time to compare queasy sensations though; it came down to either this or being rammed to death by the Alpha rhino – he'd take his chances with the flood any day.

The two flew down white water rapids, bouncing and hitting themselves against stationary trees for a mile or so before the ninja's 'Flash Flood Jutsu' washed them into a natural stream that flowed down the turtle's spine. They'd travelled so far in such a short space of time that the Alpha was out of sight; six individual hundred pound ninja might have been swept away by the rapids, but a mere metre of rushing water had barely made the rhino lose its balance.

It was only when Shoryu's pace began to decelerate in the natural river that he regained enough sense of direction to look around. Kazuya and Ayako had also been washed into the sudden stream, along with his saviour's two teammates, who rode the torrent far more comfortably than the bumbling Squad Thirteen. The flood's conjurer by the name of 'Yuudai' seemed to be the most at ease; he surfed at the head of the wave with both feet atop the water, making a childlike scream as if he was part of the wave itself.

Eventually, after five long minutes of bruising himself constantly against trees and then the rocks of the rapids, both teams finally reached at a bank. Yuudai arrived first, casually stepping off the surf as one would a treadmill. The chunky, key-snagging 'Jinga' followed, along with Ayako and lastly Kazuya, who spent a good few moments coughing up the excess water that had flooded his lungs. Finally Shoryu and the nameless heroine found themselves washed up there too.

Even the gloopy slush of wet sand was comfortable to Shoryu now. Pulled in by the tide, he skidded a good three steps onto dry land before moaning and rubbing his aching sides. The exhausted Squad Thirteen remained half-buried in the bank whilst they caught their breath. The other team meanwhile formed up and brushed themselves off as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Shoryu was the first to get to his feet. Regardless of the wet brush of sand smeared across his face he regained footing and turned back to his new friends, giving himself the chance to look at them properly now that he wasn't being bounced down a rapid by a sudden tsunami. One thing he thanked the heavens for became clear in an instant: as evidenced by the forehead protectors they wore, these were Cloud ninja – his own kind.

His saviour came in the form of a tall girl, tightly fitted in a standard uniform with her chestnut hair tied up a bun. The strict frown of her eyebrows told him that she was clearly the unspoken leader of this cell; and not without good reason either. If her previous display of incredible strength wasn't a good indicator of her ability then her expression gave it away. She was mature beyond her years, physically as well as mentally, standing as tall as Kazuya with the cool exterior of a fractious sensei.

If anything, the water user Yuudai was a stark contrast to her. Everything about him looked messy and uncaring; his clothes were creased and worn, his posture was slack and his scruffy clumps of blonde hair poked out at odd angles from his lime-green bandanna. Without even hearing them converse Shoryu sensed just from his body language that this boy was the total antithesis to his female rescuer, annoying her with his lax attitude in a way not so dissimilar from him and Kazuya.

Jinga on the other hand looked like the odd one out. Small, clunky steps and a fleeting glance at Squad Thirteen revealed his personality right away. He was shy, submissive and awkward around new people. He fidgeted with his hands and pushed a square pair of spectacles back up to the ridge of his nose; then he whistled a tune and ran a hand through short spiky hair, looking away in apparent disinterest after meeting the harsh gaze of Squad Thirteen's resident samurai.

"Jinga!" called the girl, startling him with her strict and sudden voice. "Do you have the key?"

"Ye-yes," stammered the boy, retrieving the hand-sized key he'd swiped from the Alpha and throwing it to her immediately.

Shoryu cracked his jaw loudly and rubbed the water out of his ear before approaching her.

"Stop right there! Did I say you could come any closer?" she warned.

As the girl drew a shuriken Shoryu stopped in his tracks and lifted his hands above his head, already feeling warm and embarrassed. Yuudai laughed and took a seat as he ruffed up his hair through his bandanna.

"Come on leave it out Hoshi – after all if these guys hadn't come blundering through the jungle with that thing on their tail we never would've gotten ourselves a key," he said.

"This isn't the time for your idiocy Yuudai," snapped the girl – apparently named Hoshi. "We can't afford to drop our guard in this test."

"Hang on." Shoryu dropped his hands and pitched an eyebrow in confusion. "You actually think we'd try to steal your key? Even _without _seeing you go berserk and repel that rhino – which was brilliant by the way – you really think we'd stoop so low as to try and rob you after you just saved us? We're on the same side!" He motioned to the forehead protectors that each ninja wore, all displaying the symbol of the Village Hidden in the Clouds.

Hoshi narrowed her eyes as she replied, "This is the Chunin exams – there aren't any 'sides' here."

Yuudai hissed to distil the tension and gave Shoryu an apologetic look. "Girl's got a point," he observed.

"That won't be necessary," said Kazuya. Having taken the most damage it took him a while to stagger back to his feet, but he managed it all the same. His long white hair was matted and ropey with the drowning of water and he still coughed his throat out with all he'd swallowed. As he drew his sword the other squad shrank back in preparation for an attack, until he pointed to the symbol etched onto both tangs. "See this?" he carried on, gesturing to the same mark on his wristbands. "You must recognise it – it's the symbol of the Takashi clan – I'm a samurai from the west. My honour dictates that I'm in your debt. I offer my services to whatever tasks you require, and if either of these two try to turn on you they'll become my enemies."

"Geez, thanks Kazuya," muttered Ayako, rising steadily to join the fray. "But he's got a point – we owe you big time and it'd be safer if we stuck together. If we escort you towards the neck then there's a decent chance we'll find another Alpha on the way there."

Hoshi shook her head without pausing for thought. "No thanks, I'd rather not. We'll be leaving now unless you're injured – we can't exactly leave in good conscience if you're wounded. Yuudai's methods can be a little rough."

"Well. . ." Shoryu nursed his head and looked himself up and down. "I've got about a hundred new bruises, I'm tired, I've got one massive concussion and my arm feels like it's ON FIRE. But other than that? Oh yeah, I'm just peachy."

Hoshi clucked her tongue at the boy's arrogance and turned her back, although her comrades didn't. Yuudai seemed to think that getting up after such a long ride was too much trouble, but Jinga on the other hand dropped his pack and waltzed over to Shoryu. He made no eye contact as he pulled up the sleeve of the ninja's jacket and inspected his hastily bandaged wound through the thick lenses of his glasses.

A feminine yelp escaped Shoryu when Jinga seized the bandage and tore it off without warning. Ayako laughed aloud and Kazuya chuckled, but for Shoryu it was no laughing matter – the already blazing wound ignited with an even greater heat as pain surged down every inch of his lower muscle. The shuriken had gone deeper than he'd first expected. Even after three days the pain had only gotten more severe.

"Hey watch it! What are you doing?" he demanded.

"You're too sympathetic Jinga," said Hoshi, barely turning her head. "Just leave him, we're going."

After pulling out what appeared to be a first aid kit Jinga finally said his first full sentence. He withdrew a frighteningly large needle and pushed black thread through its eye. "He's took a direct hit from a shuriken. Honestly I'm surprised he didn't notice he's been bleeding this entire time."

"I figured it was normal," Shoryu replied with a shrug.

Jinga continued to act as if Shoryu wasn't there and resumed his chatter, "If he doesn't get stitches and new bandages it'll get infected, then he'll get a fever and he could eventually die."

"It's not our problem," said Hoshi.

"He's from our village – the least we can do is help him out. This'll sting."

Jinga had already pressed a sanitised bud of cotton to Shoryu's triceps when he gave his redundant warning. The boy's tongue fizzed as he fought through the pain as the ninja cleaned his wound. Whoever these people were, he knew he liked his chances with them far more than he did with Kouta and his band of Mist tearaways. Hoshi seemed to finally allow Jinga to work his magic, so at least that was a start.

"You knew it was a shuriken wound just by looking at it? Let me guess: medical ninja?"

Jinga nodded and pressed his glasses further up his nose. A few hand signs later and his palms began to radiate a cool glow of lime chakra that numbed the pain of the wound for the first time in days; Shoryu finally exhaled and released his breath after that, relaxing his stiff shoulders that had been tensed ever since that day. He didn't even feel the subsequent stitching that took place or the touch of Jinga's ability that reduced the severity of the wound. Rather than taking a month to close up, his pain would be gone in under a week – the only thing remaining as evidence of it would be a tiny scar on his arm.

"You." The chestnut haired girl, Hoshi, turned around and strode forward, rudely addressing the boy. "How did you get that?"

"Cut myself shaving. My pits are like a gorilla's this time of year." Shoryu had only just managed to finish his sentence when a giant slap across the back of his head notified him of Ayako's presence. Jinga almost tore his stitching and nearly slit an artery from the sudden jolt.

"Be a little more grateful!" she cussed.

Shoryu pouted. "Well she should've asked nicely then!"

"No," said Hoshi, shaking her head. "You're right, I'm sorry – it's none of my business. . . How much longer Jinga?"

"Just a few minutes."

"Well hurry it up – the light's fading fast."

Jinga nodded and resumed his work, although Shoryu couldn't help but notice that his fingers actually moved slower this time. As the last wink of golden sunlight shrank back over the horizon Yuudai finally got to his feet. Clearly he was the only one in this group with the bottle to stand up to Hoshi; when something like this wasn't right he made his feelings clear.

"Hoshi," he said, "I think we should reconsider letting them join us."

The taller girl rounded on her partner and met him with an accusing stare. "You what?" she snapped. Even the tone of her voice made Shoryu cringe in fear of Yuudai's safety, but to the water user's credit he held his ground firmly.

"Think about it: other nations will probably be joining up with teams of from their own village. This way we'll be able to compete with them and totally outclass any other three-man squads that come after our key; they seem trustworthy enough. Besides, the sun's going down like you said; if they wanted to follow us there'd be no way for us to stop them – they'll see our fire from miles away. And I don't know about you but I'm not too hot on the idea of insulting our good friend Mr. Bushido over there by not taking him up on his offer."

Kazuya said nothing in reply as Hoshi put a hand to her chin and wrestled with her thoughts for a while. Clearly she was the kind of person who wanted everything to go according to plan; if anything seemed off she'd back away and refuse to progress, but there was wisdom in Yuudai's words. She still didn't trust them in the slightest and joining forces went against everything her gut told her; the consequences of not doing so however were potentially far more severe. They had a key now – if any other teams caught wind of this knowledge it would spell bad news for them.

"Alright we'll give it a trial period – one night only. You can stop with us for tonight and if there are no hiccups we can progress together. But if you pull anything then we're gone; none of that 'oh you three can all go to sleep while we keep watch' crap. This key doesn't leave our sight. The person carrying it in our group should be awake and on guard duty within twenty feet of the others."

"That's a lot to memorise," Shoryu muttered, grinning. "Got a pen?"

"Do you agree or not?" said Hoshi, her tolerance thinning.

"Yes-yes! Of course we agree!" Ayako flapped her arms around and came between the two of them, determined to stop the fight that could easily ensue. She turned to Kazuya for confirmation. "Right?"

With a hum the samurai nodded.

"Well at any rate you've got us at a disadvantage," said Yuudai. "You know our names."

"Oh, well I'm Ayako. The samurai over there is Kazuya." She slapped the back of Shoryu's head one more time. "And this mouthy jerk is Shoryu."

* * *

By the time the two teams set up camp in a suitable clearing the sun was already long gone. Jinga, Shoryu and Ayako volunteered to take the first shift whilst the remaining three received some much needed sleep upon a bed of palms that Kazuya had quickly chopped down.

The trio awake strayed around nearby to pick up whatever firewood they could find. Above the jungle canopy every star was alight, illuminating the sky in a serene blue glow whilst the crickets sang from the trees. A cool wind rushed in through the trees and rustled the vines and scattered the leaves of the jungle floor, yet the temperature here was already so humid that a breeze was more than welcome for the stifling teens.

They'd pitched up next to a small brook, one that branched out from the river they'd been thrown down and ended at the base of a large tree. Dry wood was easy to come by in the light of the full moon and refilling water flasks was easy with a freshwater stream running right through the camp. Shoryu retrieved a rock from the shore of the river and planted it firmly on the ground as a makeshift seat whilst he dropped his bundle of wood to the ground.

Jinga and Ayako did the same, huddling around their mountain of brittle sticks and supple branches in a small circle some ten paces away from their sleeping comrades. Jinga pulled out a handy flint and a shuriken from his pouch and began to strike the two against each other; the only problem was that he wasn't very good. Shoryu got the impression that Hoshi and Yuudai did most of the fire lighting in 'Squad Five', so Jinga was left to try by himself. He must've struck the metal two dozen times and gotten only a few sparks before he eventually sighed and turned to the other two.

"I don't suppose either of you two know how to do this?"

Ayako smiled and looked to Shoryu. "Nope," she said.

Hopeful, Jinga followed the girl's gaze and looked up to the sitting boy.

"Sorry – I'm no good at that either," Shoryu revealed.

Jinga sighed again and hung his head before going back to the monotonous striking of flint on steel. After another few tries he dropped both the stone and the shuriken and began to rub two pieces of wood together. With his bespectacled eyes to the ground he was completely oblivious to Shoryu cracking his knuckles before easing his hands into five distinct signs.

"_Summoning Jutsu._"

When Jinga turned around the staple ink splatter of a summoning preceded an explosion of smoke that startled him with a jolt away from the bundle of wood. Kyoh emerged, clicking his ferocious claws as he bounded out of the mist. The ninja shrank back in fear when the reptilian beast closed in on him; he was about to scream for the others when Kyoh simply began to nip at the sleeve of his shirt, begging him to play with a squeal of joy.

"He's gotten bigger since I last saw him," noted Ayako.

"He has? Huh. Guess I never noticed," said Shoryu.

Ayako was certainly right – Shoryu just hadn't realised his summon's growth spurt since he trained with the creature every other day. The dragon that once stood lower than Shoryu's shins had now grown all the way up to his waist whenever he decided to walk on both legs. Those had become rare occurrences though, as with Kyoh's lengthening body he'd began to crawl on all fours more often than not, allowing him to stalk his prey like a cat now that he could fend for himself.

His wings that had once been tiny, useless appendages had bloomed into a bigger size in relation to the rest of his body; when he stretched them out he could fly comfortably for a good few minutes. Shoryu remembered how excited he'd been when Kyoh first took flight around the village during a training session just a week or so ago.

"Is that. . .?" Jinga began, though for him the reality was too unbelievable to put into words.

"Dragon, yeah," said Shoryu. He turned to the beast and said, "Kyoh, could you make us a fire?"

"_Fire!_" Kyoh agreed, serving up a fresh blaze that lit up the wood in an instant. After that he prowled around the camp, blue scales gleaming in the fire and moonlight as Shoryu and Ayako shared a moment of confusion. The boy's expression confirmed to Ayako that the creature had never spoken a single word before. Shoryu looked ecstatic – as far as he was concerned, his baby was all grown up.

"You heard that right? His first word was _fire!_ Good boy Kyoh!"

"_Kyoh!_" barked the dragon, giving a nod of his scaly neck and bounding over to Ayako. He curled himself up and rested his head on the foot of the kunoichi, forbidding her to move as she scratched him behind the twin growing fins on his head; a contented squeak proved that he liked it.

"Where did you get it?" Jinga asked; he still pressed up his glasses to make sure his eyes didn't deceive him.

Shoryu threw his summon a hunk of rabbit meat and replied, "Long story – basically our first C-rank mission turned out to be the most eventful thing in our lives, save of course for these Chunin exams."

"How many C-ranks have you guys done?"

"Just two, what about you?"

"Six," Jinga revealed. "The three of us recently turned fourteen within a few weeks of each other. We've been Genin for just over a year now."

"Looks like you're a year our senior then," observed Ayako. "You guys must be pretty close to have been together for that long."

"We're a pretty unlikely squad I'll admit. I've never been the most confrontational or exciting guy; then you compare that with Yuudai who seems unfazed by almost anything along with Hoshi. . . Well you've seen how she gets."

"Yeah I've been meaning to ask;" Shoryu rocked forward on his seat and gave the fire another few twigs from the ground. "What's her deal anyway? She seems awfully annoyed about something."

"Maybe that's because you wouldn't stop acting fly with her?" suggested Ayako.

Shoryu pouted once again and turned his head. "She started it."

Jinga lowered his head and let out a sigh. He seemed to be silently debating whether or not to let Squad Thirteen in on Hoshi's personal life, but after a few moments' thought he decided he could trust them. "Hoshi's always been wound up pretty tight," he said. "But lately it's been a little worse. A few weeks ago her older sister died – she was on a mission transporting one of the Seven Swords of the Mist when something attacked them. She was killed in the initial battle; the worst part is that the Cloud is unwilling to say anything about what happened for now. I'm sure they have their reasons, but it's hard on the families of those who didn't make it. Take it easy on her if you can manage it; Yuudai and myself are just doing what we can for right now."

As soon as Jinga mentioned the mission Shoryu recognised it right away, along with the culprits responsible. Since he was sworn to an oath of silence he averted his gaze and swallowed a bitter mouthful of guilt. It was the same mission that Ruki Jenbo had been sent on – Ayako's father had only just escaped with his life too. Dozens of clones had assaulted the elite squadron and killed many of them. It sickened Shoryu to think that from the handful of bodies he saw after stepped out of the chute, one of them belonged to Hoshi's sister.

"So that's why. . ." Shoryu mumbled. "Things like that almost make me thankful I don't have much in the way of family. I can't imagine how she must feel – after all none of us have ever had any siblings to lose."

"I don't suppose it's a very pleasant experience," Jinga replied.

Kyoh cocked his head up from Ayako's foot as the medical ninja rose to his feet and announced that he was going to the bathroom. With an awkward exhale Shoryu searched around in his backpack and withdrew a skewered fish he'd caught earlier. The meat began to cook after he suspended it over the fire, allowing for a tasty meal that wouldn't have been possible without Kyoh.

Shoryu deduced quickly that Jinga had gone for a number two based on the fact that he still hadn't returned after a whole minute. Either that or he was just very shy – if he'd been attacked they would've known, so the two members of Squad Thirteen sat quietly around the fire, eating their meal watching the shadows of the fire dance and the stars of the sky twinkle in and out of focus.

"You were wrong you know."

"Hmm?" with a mouthful of fish Shoryu turned to his teammate. Kyoh cocked his head inquisitively.

"What you said about none of us having siblings, you were wrong – I had an older brother once," said Ayako.

Shoryu put down the fish-stick as his attitude sobered immediately. He'd been led to believe that every member of Squad Thirteen knew everything about their teammates now that their training and initial missions had come to an end. He never suspected that Ayako would be the one withholding information about herself – Kazuya and himself had proved to be the most secretive ones. He swallowed his bit of food and continued, "You've never told us about this before." He stated the obvious.

"That's because there isn't much to tell. To be honest I don't really remember him – I must've been only a year old when he died, and he was four at the time."

Instead of offering a comment as per usual, this time Shoryu decided to let Ayako continue. Nothing he could think of would alleviate the tension or show that he somehow sympathised with her; he had no words to comfort her with, yet it didn't seem like she needed any. She wasn't puffy-eyed or choking on her own tears, she just recounted the story and stared into space as though it were a romanticised fable.

"You might have heard about a sky virus that came about twelve years ago, you might have even caught it. It was a kind of small epidemic in our village; well he was one of the unlucky few who died from it. It must've just hit him harder than the others or something." She paused for a while before continuing, "I'm not sure my parents ever really recovered from it. They always told me about how was so full of life – even at four years old he'd be bouncing around announcing that he'd be the future Raikage. After hearing that time and time again growing up, that dream just pretty much became a part of me. It's sort of like I. . ."

"Wanted to live for both of you?" suggested Shoryu.

For the first time since retelling the story Ayako met Shoryu's eyes. His heart fluttered in his chest before she responded with a nod, her voice husky and nostalgic.

"Something like that, yeah. . . You probably think it's foolish."

"No more foolish than thinking you can oppose your entire clan and come out victorious," Shoryu reflected. He smirked and then jerked his head towards the trio of sleeping bodies. "No more foolish than joining the _ninja _to earn money for your family of _samurai_."

Ayako broke her serious expression into sweet laughter upon hearing Shoryu's mockery of their samurai comrade.

"I mean who does that anyway?" he added, earning another giggle. "At the end of the day it's your dream now, and no one else can take it away from you. I guess the first step would be to pass these Chunin Exams – if you want to climb your way to being Raikage I suppose we'd better hold nothing back from here on out."

* * *

Once the Mizukage arrived tensions really began to soar, and Reizo had already come to false conclusion that they could rise no higher.

Teruo Shijo, the Eleventh Mizukage, was possibly the largest man Reizo had ever laid eyes on. Younger than the Jonin himself and bigger even than the Glacier's Taisho Bishamon Takashi, Teruo strode in like a man who'd arm-wrestled his way to the top of the chain of command. In fact Reizo would've suspected that was exactly the case if the giant sword on his back didn't scream otherwise. A sky blue coat tailor made to suit his build flowed to the ground and swayed with every heavy footfall he took as he made his way into the room.

Where he originally came from no one knew – Teruo Shijo had just arrived at the Village Hidden in the Mist one day from a faraway town and ascended to Mizukage in less than a decade. He was bald with tired eyes and full lips like kippers, not to mention uglier than most with a sluggish, dull personality that matched his brutish appearance. Reizo decided that he must've had some giant's blood flowing through him or something, because at twenty two years old Teruo looked about forty with room for his size seventeen feet to still grow.

Clutching his back, the oddest sword Reizo had ever seen quivered and actually seemed to _breathe _like a living being. Its giant blade was covered from tang to tip with what appeared to be shark scales, barely sharpened and easily mistakable for a giant feather duster at a first glance. Even in spite of its blunt appearance the Jonin knew that some fearful power laid within the sword, for he'd heard by rumour that this was the Samehada, one of the legendary swords of the Mist. Once upon a time its loyalty was to evil, but now it rested contently in the grasp of Teruo Shijo. He wasn't sure of the difference.

Just half an hour with him in the room had been unbearable to listen to. He'd thrown childish insults and brandished his fists the size of small monitor screens whenever a Kage decided to retaliate. Hiromasa Hyuga was the only one who managed to remain calm, even when Teruo claimed that _all four_ of the other hidden villages had attacked his country in bands of clones. At that point one of his bodyguards decided to lean in closer, apparently to correct him by mentioning that the Village Hidden in the _Leaves_ had done nothing at all, for when Teruo turned back around he noted that the Hokage was "still a white-eyed freak".

If the Eleventh Mizukage's manners were bad then the following Thirteenth Tsuchikage's were decidedly worse. She strutted in late and weighed up the other Kage with opinionated eyes that judged them all from barely acceptable to less than dirt. She huffed and strode towards the roundtable before clearing her throat; this acted as a cue for her first bodyguard to grab her chair and pull it back for her. The second one was still weighed down by a metric tonne of supplies – apparently she'd packed her entire wardrobe.

Once the bodyguard pushed her seat back into place an awkward silence claimed the conference, until eventually the Kazekage decided to speak.

"So do they wipe your ass too?" he chided.

A glare of knives from the woman met Peparo the Kazekage as Reizo grinned.

Shining golden hair combed a hundred times over flowed right down the Tsuchikage's waist with a single large lock of her fringe covering half of her face. Aside from a pointed nose that she looked down from at all times she was actually rather striking, but the sad fact was that she seemed to _know _it. Everyone and everything was beneath her; a person overly concerned with aesthetics did not fit in at the Kage conference at all. Whether it was Peparo's scars and receding hairline, the disconcerting whites of Hiromasa's eyes, the dopy, ogre-like expression of Teruo or the shrewd sea of wrinkles that made Kira Asakura look as though he'd spent his whole life sucking on a lemon – she disapproved of it all without saying a word.

Draped over her shoulders was a gold laced, silk mantle of her country's signature green along with an entire arsenal of toolkits around her belt. From this Reizo deduced that she was a projectile specialist, attacking in the shadows from afar with a tempest of metal that became the last thing her opponents saw. It was a tried and tested fighting style for a shinobi and one that allowed them to ascend quickly, but there was no risk in it. Projectile specialists often came out of missions without a scratch, and if an assignment went wrong they were the only survivors more often than others.

Still, she couldn't have been older than twenty – she'd done exceedingly well for herself despite her young age. However, she seemed to expect praise for this at every turn and for people to constantly acknowledge her triumphs, failing to understand that in the presence of other Kage, age was one factor that lost all meaning. They were equals in status and power – nothing else was supposed to matter.

"Introducing Lady Hisae Kokowa: the Thirteenth Tsuchikage." Kikuchiyo muttered his final announcement with noticeably less enthusiasm than the first.

"I guess this is what the Twelfth gets for not appointing a successor before he kicked the bucket," grumbled the Raikage.

Reizo's hand met his head once again. _Look who's talking_, he wanted to say. _You're over a century old and you still haven't named who's to be the Eleventh Raikage._

Hisae turned to Kira with the same icy stare she'd given Peparo. "I believe you'll find that I _was _appointed actually," she said.

"Well then perhaps our late friend the Twelfth was out of his right mind?" suggested the old man. "It sure would explain how he was so easily bested in combat by a band of mere clones."

"How _dare _you speak of him in such a way! Have you no respect for the dead?" she objected.

"This is not the time for idle mockery!" said Kikuchiyo sternly. The young Taisho rose to his feet, commanding the others with a single movement and forcing all eyes to look his way. Whether they approved of him or not was none of his concern; he would not have his first conference be turned into a childish trade of insults from the five leaders of the world. "Lords and lady Kage," he resumed calmly, "I believe you have more important matters to discuss. You may begin the summit conference whenever you desire."

* * *

Three days later

_How the hell did we get ourselves into this? _Shoryu couldn't help but wonder this as he dove away from a bone beak the size of three grown men. It penetrated the ground where he'd once stood and left a drill-shaped impression that would've impaled him into the floor. In a triangle formation Squad Thirteen surrounded and strafed rings around the enormous Alpha creature, a feathered pterosaur even bigger than the last two-headed rhino that Kazuya had managed to annoy.

At the centre of a natural cornfield the battle commenced. The wind bent the stalks down into an odd angle and Shoryu's hair into an untidy perm, but to the north past the scene of a nearby forest the leathery mountain twenty miles wide stretched up before them. It didn't take a genius to work out that this incredible view that rose up beyond the clouds and out of sight was the neck of the Island Turtle. The view of the twenty doors was no doubt obstructed by the forest before them, but to open one Squad Thirteen would need the damned key that hung from the talons of the pterodactyl.

Luckily the two groups had devised a handy plan for dealing with the Alpha creatures. Squad Five, since they already had a key, would divert the attention of the smaller creatures whilst Squad Thirteen dove in to challenge the Alpha. Today was no exception, as some thirty metres behind them Hoshi, Yuudai and Jinga held off a small army of man-sized, feathered reptilians as they duelled across the plane. The giant pterodactyl was in fact the third Alpha they'd discovered since joining Squad Five.

Previously they'd been bested and by a six legged boar the morning after Ayako's revelation to Shoryu. The day after that and they'd gone up against a Cerberus-esque three headed dog; they fought it for a full hour until finally they managed to get in close, only to find to Kazuya's horror that the key had already been taken from someone else. With only one day left on the clock and the neck in clear sight Squad Thirteen was spurred on, knowing that if they failed here then the odds of finding another Alpha with a key so close to the finish weren't exactly high.

Shoryu's adrenaline soared as a last second dodge kept him from the jaws of death once more before the Alpha turned its attention to Ayako. Now was his chance; the kunoichi's evasion skills were as good as any, and with that handy shield to keep herself protected she could occupy their opponent for a while. He bolted for the razor sharp talons that slashed away at the ground, skidding under the swing of its spiny tail and dashing for the visible key that dangled from the first claw.

With his right arm already reaching out in front of him Shoryu closed in on the talon just as he'd done three times already, but this time he'd make it. He _knew _that whilst the Alpha's attention was divided he'd be able to snag the key and get away in time. Of course that plan relied on nothing going wrong, like for example Kazuya jumping onto the reptilian's tail and running up the length of their giant foe's spine.

Shoryu's hand closed in around the prize; he felt the brush of metal and heard the jingle of the key across his fingers before an agonising squawk filled his ears. In the length of a blink Shoryu was knocked off his feet by the other talon whirling around and bluntly careering into his chest. At first he feared that the pterosaur was onto him and that it would only be a matter of time before it turned the sharp points of its claws to his face. Only after did he realise that the Alpha's thrashing was a knee-jerk reaction to pain caused by Kazuya stabbing two and a half feet of wrought steel into its back.

"Idiot!" he hissed to himself, as his once simple task had grown into a problem. The pterosaur stamped its claws up and down, banging its feet like a petulant baby throwing a tantrum. As a set of pneumatic pumps the two trios of blades hammered into the ground, tearing apart clumps of moss and ripping the earth away. If he got caught under the floor-printing talons even for a second his body would be shredded into a dozen pieces before he realised he was dead.

Ayako had encountered a similar problem too; the winged monstrosity pecked at her with more power at a much faster tempo. Before long she was dancing from place to place expending any colour she could pull out just for a single chance at repelling the beast. She struck it dead in the eye with a fortunate red and caused its rage to increase, though by the time it regained coordination Shoryu had already acted.

He flung himself onto one of the bandy legs of the pterodactyl after steeling himself for a full half a minute. Like a frightened cat he clung to the phone pole sized appendage before he eventually managed to reach down and seize the key beneath him. This time his aim was true and uninterrupted. He stuffed the rusty old thing into the inside pocket of his father's old coat and resumed using both hands to grip the unstoppable leg. With the talons beneath him gleaming sharp and terrifying under the morning sun he daren't move until the pterodactyl had calmed down, even if that meant braving the horrors of the Alpha's next actions.

The flailing stopped momentarily as the creature began to crouch onto its hind legs; Shoryu thought his opportunity might have arrived and gingerly shimmied down until the sudden forceful flap of thirty metre wings forced him to hold on tighter than ever. The legs stretched out and what sounded like the bass beat of a drum sounded around him with every beat of the pterosaur's wings. Forces more powerful than any hurricane he'd ever endured tugged his face into odd angles; the grass beneath him separated until eventually they took off.

Below them the world spun and the field stretched out into an overhead view of the surrounding forest, rising higher and higher towards the sky, until eventually at eighty metres high the shores of the Island Turtle were clearly visible. The field that acted as a site of their battle quickly became measureable from Shoryu's finger to his thumb whilst Squad Five became tiny pinpricks – virtually indistinguishable from the army of smaller pterosaurs.

Shoryu held on for dear life as vertigo overwhelmed him. The talons beneath him had finally stopped their dismembering sequence of stabs, but he was too high up to do take advantage of it. Above him was an entirely new problem; until he saw her every instinct told him to close his eyes and pray, but Ayako was in danger – he couldn't look away just yet.

As straight as an arrow the Alpha creature soared up and up. At its beak lay Ayako, dangling from the mouth of the winged beast by the mere strap of her ninja toolkit. Once it regained vision it would snap at her until it either dropped her from these eagle's heights or claimed its meal. Neither was a desirable outcome.

"Ayako!" Shoryu roared up. For a few moments he was unsure of whether or not she could hear him with the considerable G-force pushing against him, but regardless he persevered. "AYAKO! Cut yourself free!"

Without the slightest glimmer of a second thought the girl whipped out a shuriken from a holster around her thigh and severed the band that held her to the pouch of tools in a single slash. Shoryu remained amazed at how quickly she'd acted as she plummeted down in freefall towards him, and he swore to make her bravery pay off as traced her descent with his arm. Even with perfect tact and timing not everything went to plan though.

Just like their misadventures a week ago Shoryu caught her perfectly, suspending her over a deathly drop. Yet after falling from fifty feet already the strength it took to catch her was incredible in spite of her light weight. The instant Shoryu's hand closed in around hers and absorbed the momentum of her fall he felt the cringing, excruciating pull as his left shoulder came right out of its socket. He didn't doubt that she felt a sense of whiplash either, but that didn't make his dislocation any less painful.

It took every ounce of power and fortitude to keep his grip locked so tightly; even the Alpha itself seemed to be testing his strength as it levelled out from its straight ascent into a flat flight along the clouds, twisting his detached shoulder into an even more uncomfortable position. It grew cold at such altitudes and his hands began to shake, but in spite of the chill his forehead burned with feverish exertion and poured sweat every time he took a breath.

Just when Shoryu figured he could hold on no more his saving grace came. He had no idea how long it had been dangling there, but in the corner of his eye he suddenly became aware of a green cord of supple rope dangling down the side of the Alpha. It could've been a coincidence – the failed attempts of another group – or it could've been Kazuya trying to save them. The last they saw of him the samurai was running along the back of their pterodactyl enemy, and Shoryu didn't recall seeing him escape. Whatever the case, the only way to know was to take a risk.

He let his right hand slip out from around the base of the Alpha's leg, and once the pair started to fall he made a wild reach for the limp piece of rope. Once he grabbed it he half expected the cord to start plummeting with them; sure enough though, it held firmly, and within a few seconds Shoryu noticed them to rising as Kazuya pulled them up.

Kazuya seemed to be right at home on the uneven, bumpy ground of the pterosaur's back. Feathers sat atop a bed of hardened scales, and along the reptile's spine a jagged row of spikes thrust out, some bigger than the samurai himself. At either side them a natural fan propelled light gusts towards them from the wings of the creature, and ahead of them the pterosaur had finally given up on craning its neck to seize them. With the rope in one hand and Ayako in another Shoryu leaned up against one of these until he was finally allowed to let go of both. With his right hand he held onto one of the spines for support, whilst his left dangled limp and unresponsive.

"Kazuya. . ." he muttered, using all his strength to bring the quivering, warped arm up his chin height. "I can see you wanna do the honours – just get it over with."

"My pleasure." No sooner than he'd finished his two word sentence did Kazuya seize his friend's arm, push up and fiercely twist Shoryu's shoulder back into place with a disgusting pop like a giant cracking its knuckles.

"_Son of a- Urrrgh!" _cried Shoryu, staggering to his knees and nursing his injury with the prolonged hiss of a snake.

"You okay Shoryu?" said Ayako, worried.

"Fantastic," muttered the boy. After another half a dozen gasps he managed slowly to get back to his feet. Within arm's reach above them were the lowest clouds themselves, and over the ledge of the pterosaur's back a frightening drop loomed below, almost three times that which they'd been suspended from a week ago.

Falling from here would turn them into flat mush on the ground, that much was certain; either they had to wait for the Alpha to pass over water and make a jump for it or wait for the creature to land. Neither sounded appealing – the odds of hitting a small target of water at this altitude were slim, not to mention there was no way of knowing whether or not it would be deep enough.

On the other hand waiting for the beast to touch down didn't seem smart either. With the wound Kazuya had dealt it going visibly deep Shoryu doubted it would just let them go without a fight. It would follow them to the edge of the island for the sake of revenge.

Kazuya scratched his head and sat down, cross-legged without bothering to hold onto anything for stability. "So what now?"

"Well that's a great question Kazuya," Shoryu began. "Maybe we wouldn't have had to ask it if you hadn't been a moron and stabbed this thing! We could've just bolted but you _had _to take it the extra mile!"

"So you managed to get the key?" Ayako eagerly looked to her comrade – her impressed look at his skills at least made Shoryu feel a little better.

"Yeah I got the key." He revealed, fishing around in his pockets before jangling it up to them. "But it won't count for anything if we don't find a way to-"

Shoryu's lips stopped with the momentum of the Alpha creature; in fact everything stopped. The scaly, feathered ground beneath them vanished completely in a giant puff of uninspiring smoke, sending the three of them into a screaming fall. Even Kazuya cried out – this was it. They were dead. Whatever had happened, the Alpha had disappeared, and Shoryu, Kazuya and Ayako found themselves plummeting through empty sky.

The wind's magnitude roared in Shoryu's ears as he dropped with the others, picking up speed by the second with zero traction and hardly any currents to slow them down. They were the one percent – three of the twenty ninja who left the Island in a zipper, provided there was anything left of them. With the speeds they ascended to and the impact their fall would create, Shoryu began to doubt it.

There was no water around for miles away from their future landing point; with no way to divert their flight the trio simply fell like stones. The ground rushed towards them faster and faster until Shoryu closed his eyes and couldn't take it anymore. The skin covering his face felt like it was about to flay away and his hair received the most intense blow dry of its existence.

At least there was one thing he could be thankful for in death – he'd experienced flying. With his heart ready to explode Shoryu's body and mind went haywire; he didn't feel the cold spreading up his fingers or the aches in his arms from spreading himself out to make his surface area as wide as possible. It would achieve little in the long run, but since Ayako and Kazuya did the same he made no effort to change his dying pose.

Once the forest below started to fill his field of vision Shoryu tried in vain to figure out what had gone wrong, minus Kazuya being arrogant and foolhardy. The Alpha vanishing like that was completely unforeseeable – they'd played all their cards right up until now and been defeated by a random act of coincidence. The whole thing still confused him. Just _what_ had happened? If his eyes didn't deceive him it looked as though the creature was actually _summoned _somewhere.

The trees loomed closer; Shoryu began to wonder how much of a shock the other ninja would get when they found his body skewered down the entire length of one of the sharper pines.

In a last ditch reflection Shoryu briefly went over Squad Thirteen's skills and abilities as the unbelievable wind began to nick his face and cut his clothes at the seams. He had to make sure that if he was to die, he hadn't missed some blatantly obvious act that could've prevented it. None of them had any kind of flying jutsu or even any way to slow them down to lessen the bearing of their fall. Himself, Kazuya, Ayako; all of them were useless here, and yet Shoryu couldn't help but get the distinct impression that he'd missed something that could save their lives.

The idea hit him like the slap she'd given him last week. It wasn't much to go on, but any kind of attempt was better than dying meaninglessly. With the intensity of the wind now at unbearable levels just straining his neck left to look at Ayako took a considerable amount of effort. He focused his vision on her and realised with a start that she was way ahead of him; the girl was already forming hand signs.

"_Shading Jutsu!_" he heard her shout, although barely. "_Yellow!_"

This time something physical hit Squad Thirteen. In less than half a second Shoryu burst through five solid yellow walls of glassy chakra, each time receiving a blow like a hammer the point where he smashed through it. Four chaotic, torturous seconds of the worst pain imaginable ensued before Shoryu hit the pine littered floor on his back with a mighty crash, unsure of what exactly had happened and which way was up.

Everything was bruised; his heart rate had never been so high and his vision blurred with the worst headache he'd ever received, threatening to throw him into unconsciousness at any moment it wished. Even though he wouldn't have as much to show for this as Kazuya's initial training, the pain would be far worse for much longer. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had just transpired: Ayako's shields were breakable with enough impact, and the force of three teenagers careering through at a hundred miles an hour was enough to shatter them. He must've smashed through twenty in fewer than five seconds – the stack of so many slowed him down, decelerating them to a point where he could land with his life still intact.

Determined to be the first to rise, Shoryu willed himself to bring up an arm and hopped back onto one knee, using the sheathed end of his sword to support him. Heavy breaths filled the camp as he failed and flopped back to his front.

"Remind-," he gasped. It took him another few moments to get out his sentence, "Remind me to find another way of slowing us down, just for future reference."

"Would you rather be dead?" managed Ayako after a while.

Kazuya started to laugh, and then when his battered chest objected to this he decided against it. "Honestly? Yes, Ayako, yes I would."

Rapid footsteps in quick succession suddenly became audible through the jungle region to the south. Unable to move just yet, Squad Thirteen was left paralysed and waiting in terror for the rival band of enemy ninja that would no doubt burst out of the trees. Shoryu tried again to get to his feet, but wound up standing up too quickly and falling flat on his back as a result.

Words didn't describe their relief when the footsteps turned out to be a flummoxed looking Hoshi, Yuudai and Jinga. No doubt they'd witnessed Squad Thirteen's incredible take-off and feared the worst when three human-sized figures had fallen to the ground. Shoryu chuckled and retrieved the key from his pocket, confidently spinning it around his finger as the three made it into the clearing.

"We're off to the third stage I guess." The lack of enthusiasm was immediately apparent. "Yay. . ."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Well that was a long one. I kinda feel like I should've split this chapter into two as well but there you go. Three more entries left for this volume, one later in November, one early December and one around Christmas. Honestly any of those three might end up split into two chapters; I've just got a tonne of ground to cover. At the very least volume 2 will be started just after New Year - that I can promise.

There's a bit to talk about here, I guess the obvious bit would be mentioning stage two in itself, which is basically just the Forest of Death except instead of other teams carrying the keys to victory it's the massive creatures. Then there's the new Squad Five. Had a blast making those guys; it's a nice change to just write a bunch characters who for once don't have a hidden agenda, a huge backstory or an ambiguous past. Hoshi was probably my favourite - I showed this chapter to a mate and he said she's 'pretty much every character Michelle Rodriguez has ever played', which I thought was a decent enough description xD

Oh and let's not forget the Kage. They were a real challenge to create. Making them all distinctive was something that took a lot of aimless pacing and frantic brainstorming. We've got the miserable old Raikage, the cool as a cucumber Hyuga for a Hokage, badass Samuel L Jackson-esque Kazekage, Queen bitch the Tsuchikage and Andre the Giant the Mizukage, who also has Kisame's old sword. I think the Kazekage is probably my personal favourite – I don't plan on killing him off anytime soon.

Stay tuned next time for the exam finale of stage two and the beginning of stage three, both of which come with some nice twists :D


	20. Chapter 20 Ayako's Decision

Chapter 20: Ayako's Decision

Reizo had lost count of how many times he'd had to turn away, hang his head and sigh in embarrassment at the Kage Summit Conference - he'd stopped keeping track once he reached the three digit mark. Three hours of nightmarish torture had begun with Kikuchiyo's announcement; three hours of their 'wise' and elderly Raikage making glib remarks at the expense of his peers and procrastinating every argument that broke out.

The conference had gone just as he'd feared. Mere seconds had passed before the leaders of respective countries – the five most powerful ninja in the world - had been reduced to baseless accusers and petty criticisers. The only Kage to keep his cool was Hiromasa Hyuga; Peparo Raan had held out for a while, but it wasn't long before he'd been dragged into the same shallow debates as the Raikage, the Tsuchikage and the Mizukage.

For the first hour or two Kikuchiyo had tried in vain to keep the conference civil and calm, but after he saw that it did little good he submitted to the angry ravings of the Kage.

Reizo understood why they argued so; they were angry. They needed someone to blame for the loss of their ninja and _one _of them had to be lying. Even so, there were better ways to glean this information than simply pointing the finger and seeing what happened. The fact remained that each of them had the ulterior motives necessary to start a war – military dominance, spite, greed, or, as Reizo suspected was the case, historical immortality.

Two hundred years without a war had been great for the general ninja populous, but it made for complacent, weaker Kage who were hardly remembered for more than a few years after the end of their reign. To be a Kage one had to be ambitious, and Reizo could see the appeal clearly enough. Leaders and elite ninja in a war were recognised, their names etched into the history books to be forever studied and admired. These ninja all followed in the footsteps of their long-dead predecessors: the First Kage, the Sage of the Six Paths and so on – all of them commanded authority that spanned well beyond their respective lifespans.

The victor of this war would of course be the one who was remembered the most, and clearly each of the Kage believed that they stood a chance at winning if it came to that.

When Kikuchiyo commanded that the session be adjourned they continued squabbling for another full ten minutes until they gave up and returned to their Jonin for consolation. Naturally Reizo knew that the Raikage would take little on board from whatever council he might offer. If he listened, Reizo would advise him to calm down and assess the situation carefully as the Hokage did, but since he wouldn't hear it, Reizo said nothing.

Instead he only observed the Kage as he rose to his feet and waddled over to them. His face was flustered, his palms sweaty - as if he'd just ran a mile on those flimsy sticks he called legs. Clearly the argument had tired him, as he withdrew another crushed leaf of tobacco and refilled the pipe that he wasn't supposed to light.

"Lord Raikage, if I may," suggested Hatori. Reizo had completely forgotten that the sensory ninja had been standing beside him the entire time. "Perhaps it's time that I scoped them out – perceive their chakra flows to determine which is lying."

Kira sucked on his pipe like a dummy before giving a cluck of his tongue and thoughtfully nodding through a haze of smoke. "Very well then," he said. "I had hoped to work out who it is for myself, but I fear my deductive reasoning skills have gone a little rusty over the years. Personally though, I suspect the Tsuchikage, so focus on her."

Reizo scratched his head and held back a laugh at the Raikage's outlandish statement. "But she was only just instated as a Kage. . . It can't be her – the clone attacks began weeks before she came into power."

"Well uh-" Kira paused and scratched his head, trying to think up of a reason to cover his ignorance. "Well, exactly. The clones killed her predecessor. Perhaps she sent them on purpose to earn his position."

Reizo hummed and nodded. To Kira's credit it wasn't such a bad theory, even if he had just made it up on the spot. Then again little about it made sense – only a Kage would know the whereabouts of a foreign squad to send the teams of clones to, and it made little sense for her to kill the last Tsuchikage when she'd already been appointed as his successor. Nevertheless, Reizo kept his comments to himself and decided to humour Kira for the time being.

If things got too out of hand there was nothing he could do about it, and if the Kage didn't kill each other before the conference was over then war would soon follow if this process continued.

When the conference returned from its recess the heat of the arguments began to burn. Kira was more vocal than ever before and even the calm Hyuga began to make a few more comments than usual. Behind his cool exterior he was visibly ticked off with the immaturity of his peers, and since he was completely outnumbered he could turn to no one for support when the accusations turned his way.

"You've been awfully quiet Lord Hokage, is there something we should be knowing?" cooed the Tsuchikage. From there a tirade of allegations from three of them and insults from the brutish Mizukage began.

Reizo repeated his process of exhaling and turning away as he zoned out of the conference, instead turning his eyes to Hatori. The sensory ninja watched the Hokage with the utmost intensity, staring down with hawk-like eyes. Reizo knew that this was one of the most complex forms of ninjutsu out there, one that only the sharpest minds could comprehend.

Hatori was quite literally focusing his chakra to create a lens of sorts to peer through. From there he saw the chakra flow that circulated around the body and natural output that a person gave off if he concentrated on them for long enough. He watched for inconsistencies, for the tiniest fluctuations that indicated a lie, but doing so when looking at such a vast network of information was like finding a salmon coloured needle in a haystack filled with pink ones.

The difference between truth and lie was so precise that it was almost impossible to spot to untrained eyes, and once a lie was spotted, working out whether it was relevant or not was another process that Reizo couldn't even attempt to decipher. He stood back and allowed Hatori do work his magic, knowing that the only thing to do now was be patient and wait for the verdict.

* * *

Hoshi turned, ushering the pair forward with an exasperating flap. "Just hurry up would you? It's going dark already!"

"Easy for you to say," mumbled Shoryu weakly.

A brief hour for recovery had been followed by a trek that led both squads through the final hurdle – the jungle of the Island Turtle's shoulder. Only a few miles ahead the neck rested with its doors ready to be opened, and midnight was the deadline. All their efforts would be for naught if the two teams didn't reach it in time.

At Hoshi's request they'd divided into two groups. She, Shoryu and Kazuya – the strongest fighters at close range – scouted ahead whilst the remaining three staggered some two hundred metres behind. Each group carried a key; Hoshi for the vanguard and Ayako for the rear, and this ensured that if one of them was taken out, at least one group would be able to progress.

After the fall from the sky tensions were glum. Kazuya pushed forward, grimacing with every step and concealing the fact that every movement ached. Shoryu meanwhile made no attempt to hide his pain. The boy staggered one pace at a time, gripping the sheathed length of his katana with both hands and using it as a cane as he hobbled through the woods like an old man.

Above the trees of the shaded canopy the mountain before them grew closer with every passing minute. Up and up into the clouds it rose, and Shoryu knew that if they could just make it to the base they'd be saved, for that mountain was the neck of the Island Turtle. Their goal was in plain sight, spurring the teens further and further into the dark of the jungle.

Hoshi hadn't made it any easier though. With the hour at seven o'clock, five hours remained for them to reach their destination. Shoryu reckoned it would take only one or two at their current speed, however the moody kunoichi kept insisting that they move quicker despite the fall they'd just endured. Where Kazuya quietly complied, Shoryu always used it as an excuse to crack another sly remark.

It took in fact three whole hours to reach the neck, and at ten at night the scene was illuminated only by the stars and moonlight. The dense jungle suddenly stopped, as if chopped down in one straight line as it opened up to a small slope, atop which the doors lay.

Polished and silver, gleaming in the night's radiance, twenty giant steel doors were perfectly arranged in a row before them. They stood grand and imposing with their obvious girth and tight security, and made a strange contrast against all the organic greenery that surrounded them. Tendrils of chaotic vines snaked up those that weren't covered entirely in moss; flowers of different colours also stood out in the grass up to shin-height at the doorsteps.

A few of them had been jammed shut by a set of prison-like bars that told Shoryu they'd already been used by other groups. Of the twenty doors, five had been unlocked and sealed shut in the aftermath. All of them however shared one thing in common; each lead into a tunnel of sorts, fortified by the same shimmering steel that forged the doors. These tunnels led in a straight line up the mountain, running parallel to each other like an aqueduct.

Gingerly the trio inched toward the entrances, approaching two of the available fifteen that stood beside each other. Once they were sure no traps had been laid they moved right up to the doorsteps and immediately noticed the opening in which to place their keys. Satisfied, they crouched to the ground and relaxed, awaiting the return of the others in order to progress.

Shoryu's backside had barely touched the ground though when something caught his attention back at the jungle. Streaming up overhead, a flare reached for the clouds; an unmistakeable crimson firecracker of the kind he knew all too well. A scream followed it – perhaps Jinga's – and then the distinct clash of steel against steel echoed from the plantation. As kunai bounced off each other the sound of claps accompanied the metal drumming, followed closely by the sound of rushing water.

Shoryu's heart skipped a beat. He looked to Kazuya, caught the eye of Hoshi, and without saying a word the three bolted back into the jungle as a sudden burst of adrenaline forced the boy to forget all about the stabbing pain in his back. His mind raced as he wondered what happened, but only one possibility seemed plausible, one that he prayed wasn't the case.

He lost sight of the others in an instant; in the natural camouflage of a thick jungle a ninja was all but invisible against the greenery. With no regard for the thorns lashing at his legs or the wiry branches whipping against his face Shoryu ploughed forward. He followed only the sound of battle and the occasional spark that shot up into the night as he cursed his lack of speed – Ayako could be dead by the time he got there.

"They're right ahead!" he heard Hoshi call somewhere to his left. Shoryu nodded but made no move to reply; in his muddled impatience he couldn't help but blame her for this. If they'd just stuck together they would've been safe, but no, they had to split up, and now they'd paid for it dearly.

Worse still was the fact that even as he grew closer the noises began to dim. The skirmish was coming to a close; he heard only a few ricochets of shuriken as opposed to the tempest he'd heard earlier, and the splash of Yuudai's water jutsu had grown consistently weaker. He spied a flash of yellow ahead just moments before he burst into the open clearing, becoming immediately conscious of his lack of defence.

He could've run straight into a battlefield and be immediately skewered from all sides by swords and shuriken and jutsu, but to his good fortune the yellow he saw came from Ayako. She wielded what appeared to be her entire scroll of colour in her hands from a kneeling position, noticing Shoryu just as she clapped and struck the ground.

"_Shading Jutsu! Eternal Dome!_"

Shoryu, Kazuya and Hoshi just about managed to scramble to their comrades before the shield went up. Shoryu recognised it immediately as the technique she'd used during her fight against Kazuya on their first day as Genin. A pool of light glowed from the surface beneath them, and before they could question it all six ninja became suddenly encased in a giant half-sphere of translucent yellow chakra. Unless broken by some powerful force, this jutsu would protect them from attacks in all directions for as long as Ayako could maintain it.

Yuudai seemed to have a similar idea. His lips were cut and from the back of his hand a shuriken protruded, but amazingly he still managed to form hand signs. "_Water Style! Geyser Enfold!"_

At Yuudai's command the ground surrounding the dome erupted. Eight columns of steaming water burst from bulging mole-holes and rose twenty feet into the air, hindering the view of any onlookers and allowing a few moments of cool-down time to assess the situation. It turned out to be just as bad as bad as Shoryu feared, if not worse.

Jinga lay unconscious on the ground; Shoryu would've thought him dead if it weren't for the heavy breaths that pumped his protruding stomach in and out. He'd collapsed from chakra exhaustion, no doubt coupled with the pain that came from having half his body bruised and bloodied.

Yuudai was worse still. He maintained his consciousness as he gave deep pants, but it seemed like the two hands he'd planted on the ground were the only things keeping him upright. Along with the shuriken embedded in his palm, another two had struck his back, one had met his thigh, a fifth was embedded in his shoulder and half a dozen more seemed to have slashed across him, as he'd veered out of the way just in time to avoid them hitting his vital organs.

Shoryu counted ten senbon jammed into his flesh too, and being brave enough he could admit to himself that there was no way _he _could have stayed conscious throughout it all. Even more shocking was the fact that his pale skin tone and trembling fingers indicated his dire lack of chakra.

Over the three days he'd known the boy, Shoryu noted that Yuudai treated everything to do with battle as if it was no big deal; even when summoning white-water rapids and sweeping waves from thin air he rarely broke a sweat. He knew that the teen's natural level of chakra was far superior to his own, or to Kazuya's; heck, he probably possessed more than Reizo. If Yuudai of all people was low on chakra then something was very wrong. Just what kind of a force had he been forced to repel in order to spend so much energy in just a few minutes?

As bad as Jinga and Yuudai were, a second glance at Ayako proved with a heart-wrenching jolt that she had suffered the worst of all. Jinga and Yuudai's injuries, however extensive, were superficial; they were lucky to have been spared all their organs in the onslaught and their wounds were relatively shallow. Ayako had sustained only a single injury, but it was enough to put her out of action.

Shoryu's arms fell limply to his sides. "Oh no. . ."

Her left leg was broken in two different places, turned almost ninety degrees at the top leading down to a cracked shinbone. Shoryu looked with confusion at the inch of broken, red-shaded stick that looked like a snapped bamboo shoot before he realised it was bone poking out of her leg. If she didn't get medical attention soon she might never walk again, so his eyes fell to Jinga. _Oh yeah_, he thought glumly, remembering that the boy was flat out-cold.

How she stopped herself from screaming baffled Shoryu. Her lips were pursed tight and her watery eyes squinted into soundless tears, but she never said a word, she simply quickened her breathing and held on tight to ground. If she let go then the barrier was done for, and the moment that happened whatever force had attacked them would descend upon them like nightjars to their prey.

"Ayako!" Kazuya exclaimed. He rushed to her side and squatted beside her, daring not to touch her for fear of aggravating her injuries or knocking her off balance lest the shielding yellow dome cease to exist. Nearby Hoshi did the same with her own two teammates, whilst Shoryu only stared gravely at the hopeless situation that confronted them.

"What happened?" Kazuya continued. "Try not to move, alright?"

With her head shivering like a reflex to cold Ayako nodded slowly. She gritted her teeth tighter and spoke in brief sentences, hissing through a spray of spittle after each labouring phrase. "We-. . ." She paused, catching her breath. "We were attacked."

"By who? Who did this?" demanded Shoryu.

The kunoichi lifted her head and looked up to the boy from her position on one knee, but with her condition so dire Shoryu found that looking her in the eye was impossible without feeling an uncontrollable surge of guilt. He knew the answer already; he merely had to hear it with his own ears.

"Kouta – that bastard – him and his team," she managed.

"But how?" said Kazuya. "There were three of them and three of you. I get that they ambushed you but they can't have managed all this."

"No-. . ." She shook her head. "He's – he's got more. . . Another squad – one more team from the Hidden Mist. There were six of them – they joined up with another squad just like we did."

Shoryu whirled around, unable to control his anger anymore, anger that so rarely surfaced. He pointed an accusing finger at Hoshi – still tending to Yuudai as best she could – and exploded in rage. "Damn it! This is your fault! We should've stuck together like I said!"

"Shoryu calm down, this isn't going to solve anything," instructed the samurai. Even on his emotionless façade his relief that Hoshi didn't react was clear. The last thing they needed was to fight amongst themselves, not when the enemy still lurked so close by.

"No. . ." Ayako stammered. She gulped and winced into another sentence as sweat poured down her face. "You're wrong Shoryu. They took us by surprise – if we stuck together. . . Then all - all six of us would be in this state."

Shoryu grimaced and turned his back; she was right after all. In his pettiness he considered suggesting that if they'd stuck together they might have at least been able to take down one or two of them, but what good would that have done? Kouta's group would've attacked them whichever way they proceeded, and as much as it pained him to admit it, this was probably the best-case outcome for the good of the group.

He analysed the situation once again to search for a way out. He supposed that those inside Ayako's barrier could leave without damaging it, as he'd seen before that only the exterior of the yellow shading jutsu was solid. He peered through the tinted glass dome at the darkened trees that surrounded them, seeking the six ninja that had assaulted his comrades. He didn't see a single one of them, but he knew they were there, waiting patiently and biding their time for the moment when Yuudai's geysers and Ayako's shield simultaneously failed.

"Alright. . . What now?" he asked at last. In spite of his sharp mind he saw no way for all six of them to get out. If they were to simply leave through Ayako's barrier they'd be spotted instantly, and doing that would involve leaving Ayako behind. She, Yuudai and Jinga couldn't walk either, so they'd need to be carried. Shoryu doubted they could each run back through the jungle with a ninja on their backs whilst another half a dozen pursued them through the jungle. They'd be cut down before they took ten steps.

Ayako's breathing accelerated to even more rapid exhales as the pain began to intensify, and in spite of herself a tiny, mouse-like squeal escaped her. Yet that was all she permitted herself; after that she renewed her vigour and remained strong.

"I'll create. . . Colour clones of you three - right now – Yuudai's technique is." Her mouth contorted into a wordless stretch of pain before she continued. "Is blocking their view. Once he lowers it, they'll see the six of us together, and come for us again. By the time that happens you three." With a breath for air she motioned to Shoryu, Kazuya and Hoshi. "Should be long gone – take the key and go on to the third stage without us."

"No." Kazuya stood and shook his head firmly. "I can't run. Let me be the decoy, I'll hold them off."

"Like hell you will, let me do it," Shoryu offered. Even the basic clone jutsu had always eluded the boy, so he had no idea what kind of a plan he was going to make. Whatever it was, Ayako shot it down immediately.

"No you _WON'T!_" she screamed. Her strength returned as her determination to stop her two closest friends acting foolish reached its peak. "We don't have time to decide who gets to risk their life here!" she said, imitating Shoryu's words just a short week ago.

"Well apparently we did before! What's changed now?" demanded Shoryu.

"You _really_ want me to go through all the reasons?"

"Enlighten me!"

"_Fine! _First: Shoryu, I hate to break it to you but your clones would be about as convincing as a log with a _stick figure _drawn on it! Second: Kazuya here won't get another shot at this! If he martyrs himself here then his life as a ninja is over! Squad Thirteen will be _done_."

Shoryu remained speechless, preparing himself for the remaining onslaught of perfectly valid justifications to come screaming his way.

"Third: it's _you_ _two_ they want – Kouta's after you and that Suzume girl wants Kazuya for some reason! If we go down, once they notice you're not here they'll probably just leave us alone. _Last but not least: Look at my leg you idiot!_"

The boy cringed as he forced his eyes back to the mangled mess of his teammate's usually silky smooth left leg. Blood flowed all the way down it to the uncomfortable crevices between her toes. Walking on it was impossible; someone had made a real state of it.

She continued, "What the hell do you expect me to do in stage three? _Drag_ myself to victory? Let's face it, the Chunin exam ends for me here, but it doesn't have to for you guys!"

Near-silence flooded the dome as the only sounds remaining became the rushing waterfalls of Yuudai's geysers and the hum of Ayako's yellow chakra around them. Hoshi had also fallen silent, as she seemed to have reached a same level of understanding with her teammate. Shoryu pitied her more than anyone; at least he would have Kazuya, Hoshi meanwhile would have to continue as the only ninja remaining in Squad Five to the finals.

Determined to stop it all, Shoryu raked his mind again to search for another alternative. It was fruitless; Ayako was right. Even if he did manage to create a distraction and take her place she wouldn't have gotten very far on that leg anyway. Better for just her to fail here than all three of them. Shoryu knew it made sense, but bringing himself to admit it was another milestone.

"I don't know what to say," he muttered.

Ayako craned her neck to an awkward angle and pulled the key from her breast-pocket using her teeth after a little difficulty, being sure not to lift her hands even an inch from the ground. With a toss of her head she spat the key to the ground by Shoryu's feet.

"Then don't say anything, just get going already! I don't know how much longer I can keep this up!"

Kazuya suddenly rose to his feet and strode in front of her before dropping to one knee. He held his sword, raised and unsheathed above his bowed head as his eyes found the ground. Shoryu knew it was a signal of fealty; a sign of upmost respect. For a samurai to bow before his equal - especially a ninja - was unheard of as far as Shoryu knew.

"I'm indebted to you," he said after a few moments.

Ayako chuckled cynically, grimacing past another wave of pain that raced up her leg. "You really want to pay me back?" She addressed both of them as Kazuya rose once again. "If you meet those guys in the next round, kick their asses for me would you?"

Shoryu nodded without hesitation as he turned back to the dome, looking off in the direction of the doors. He pocketed the key and began again, "You can count on it."

"Then go – _run!_"

Before Shoryu understood what was happening Kazuya had seized him by the sleeve of his jacket and led him out of the transparent dome of chakra. The two darted between jetting geysers and sprinted off into the jungle; they'd lingered long enough already - if they stayed any longer for teary farewells they'd just be putting unnecessary strain on the girl whose energy was sapped by the second from the technique, and if they were caught it would be an insult to her valiant act of sacrifice.

If they were seen fleeing the dome they weren't pursued, for the moment they left they heard the soft plopping of the geysers lowering into nothing more than dripping fountains. As he dashed through the jungle of darkness Shoryu suddenly became aware of another sound accompanying the brisk sprinting of him and Kazuya. He suspected an enemy at first before realising with a start that it was Hoshi, forced to leave behind her own teammates just as they'd left Ayako.

Before long the sound of the water behind him stopped; Shoryu wasn't sure whether or not this was because Yuudai had disengaged the technique or because he was so far away that he could scarcely hear it, though the following noise told him it was the former. A great crash like a million windows shattering in unison echoed around the forest as the Eternal Dome was broken.

From that moment onwards Shoryu had only sounds to narrate the events that threatened the lives of his three friends. He heard the now-familiar hail of shuriken pelting against one another, followed by a pair of consecutive splashes as the colour clones Ayako had promised to create were revealed to be nothing more than just shaded chakra. He heard another wave of water, then a scream from Yuudai, and then even a wail in frustration from someone who could only be Kouta as his masterful plan was foiled by a simple ruse.

Shoryu cursed the situation; his newly trained instincts told him to run _towards _the sounds, not away from them. But still he kept going, knowing that if he attempted to turn around and help them there was a good chance that Kazuya would kill him where he stood, and for good reason. After another ricochet of tempered steel the noise became eerily quiet. He heard the rapid scuttling of his, Kazuya and Hoshi's feet and the scratchy rustling of the underbrush they bolted over.

He knew what the silence meant and was all the more thankful for it. It meant that Kouta and his band of miscreants had given up trying to find them in the clearing and had set off through the jungle, determined to stop Shoryu and Kazuya before they reached the third stage. Fortunately though, they were there already.

The two-person remainder of Squad Thirteen along with Hoshi burst through the treeline of the jungle and back into the final clearing; back to the moonlit row of ominous doors that stood patiently waiting for their return. Without slowing down they ran back up the small slope and to the nearest available steel door.

Shoryu fumbled in his pockets for a few moments longer than he knew he should have before finally retrieving the key. It was a rusty old thing; long and thin with double-sided grooves running up its length. From its shape Shoryu figured it would be one of those awkward keys that took coaxing and encouragement to unlock their respective doors, but to his relief it fit like a glove into the obvious hole.

He twisted vigorously heard the satisfying 'clock' of the steel lock retracting, and seeing the look of apprehension on Kazuya's face he pulled with all his might. The door was so heavy that he believed that even a well-rested and energetic version of him would not have been able to budge it an inch six months ago. He'd grown since then, so with a heave of effort he forced every last ounce of power into his pull as the door slowly began to swing open.

He turned to Kazuya, ushering for the samurai to help him before realising that he wasn't just standing there being useless. As he turned he caught glimpse of a shuriken streaming right towards him, and with a single bat of his sword Kazuya swiped it out of the sky. His heart soared when he heard the heavy padding of footsteps rushing across the open clearing; their enemies were upon them. The moment he heard this the boy's heart raced; the pounding of his pulse almost fell into synch with the rapidly drumming footfalls.

Shoryu didn't even dare turn to them, knowing that even a brief lapse of concentration could rob him of his strength.

A few moments later a whole two feet of room had been opened. The door stood ajar, causing Shoryu to cry some unintelligible warning to Kazuya and beckon him inside. The pair did so with only moments to spare, as the moment they scrambled into the dark hallway and the door crashed shut behind them the sound of three dozen projectiles bouncing off it filled the corridor.

Total darkness consumed them as the last vestiges of starlight were snatched away by the slamming of the blast door. Shoryu was thankful for this, as he never would've heard the end of it if Kazuya saw him jump like a little girl when the scattering of shuriken was followed by a great booming that shook the room. It took him a few seconds to realise that it was probably from the system outside that sealed the entrance behind them, dropping down a cell-like wall of steel bars to prevent any from entering.

As soon as that happened the room was illuminated. Sconces planted every few steps on either side of the narrow corridor sprung into flames, lighting up the hall. Thirty paces or so down the tunnel a cabin of sorts could be seen, and on closer inspection Shoryu realised it was an elevator contraption similar to the chutes that allowed ninja to travel to and from the Village Hidden in the Clouds. Instead of going straight up through a mountain though, this lift would traverse up the tunnel, along the gradient that made up the long neck of the Island Turtle.

That, at least, was a relief for Shoryu. He imagined that walking all the way up such a steep slope would be one hell of a task that would take them at least another day or two. Together Shoryu and Kazuya approached the plain wooden gondola and took seats opposite each other. As Shoryu yanked the familiar rope pulley he was suddenly aware of the silence once again. Neither said a word as the cabin soared up into the darkness of the tunnel.

* * *

After having meagre candle lights and a complete lack of words to accompany them for a full half an hour, Shoryu and Kazuya's first reaction was one of temporary blindness and deafness when they finally strode out of the parked chute.

Against the darkness of a near-midnight sky five spotlights immediately shone directly over them, forcing them to squint and shield their eyes as the cheer from upwards of fifty people filled their ringing ears. They found themselves in an arena – no, Shoryu corrected himself, not an arena – a stadium – a grand coliseum of sorts. Rows upon rows of seats stretched back in their hundreds in a circle from elevated stands around them.

They were lit up by beacons every few rows, and following the spotlight Shoryu just barely squinted a glimpse at an even more elevated stand, one where the judges and more prestigious guests would sit to observe the events below. As his eyes fell to the raised seats around them he realised that the cheer they'd received was but a fraction of what was to come.

These fifty people or so in the crowd were simply the fanatics and gamblers who'd staked out into the dead of night to greet or take bets on the competition. A quick calculation from Shoryu told him that the coliseum's true capacity could've easily reached a hundred thousand. It was simply that big - the largest man-made structure he'd ever seen in his life, with its seats stretching up almost out of eyeshot from his low vantage point. He had no idea such a huge fortress rested on the head of the Island Turtle.

He wondered how on earth those sitting furthest back would be able to see all the action before he turned right into his answer. Right above the stretch of twenty chutes from which he'd emerged was a giant monitoring screen bigger than anything he'd seen before; he supposed it would project the events below into bigger pictures. As he spied two blinking red lights somewhere in the stands the screen fizzed into static and then to life, split into two halves which both rapidly flicked through still pictures of ninja.

Eventually one of the halves settled on a photo of Shoryu himself and began to flash to load up his statistics below; his name, his age, his weight, his nationality, his experience and of course his squad number. He realised quickly that it was the same picture they'd taken when he enrolled for the exam – just before he boarded the ship that took them to the Island Turtle. He cringed in embarrassment; at the time, he figured the photo was just for reference so they could report it if he was missing, so he'd grinned like an idiot and winked at the lens as it flashed. He would've reconsidered his pose if he knew it was to be broadcast to this many people.

Beside the giant portrait looming above him Kazuya's was finally found amidst the machine scrolling through candidates. He looked bored and completely emotionless, like a mug-shot of a jail inmate. Kazuya himself didn't seem too bothered by it though, as his eyes instead turned to the sound of the mechanical clunking below the screen.

Another gondola had arrived, and this time Hoshi strode out into the harsh glare of another set of spotlights. Kazuya and Shoryu's pictures vanished as again the screen repeated the process of flickering through hundreds of photos in a matter of seconds. Eventually it found Hoshi, the last remaining member of the Cloud's Squad Five. She looked even more bitter than usual, and if her photo was imposing then her relatively tiny appearance beneath was one of quiet lividness.

A fourth set of spotlights suddenly appeared at the far wall of the arena floor. Out of a pair of steel gates a man entered onto the gritted, ashen pitch and began to stride his way towards them. Even from a distance Shoryu recognised him, and as he got closer and closer the boy realised exactly who he was. He hadn't seen the man in over three years since his exile from the clan, yet his sharp features, hooked nose and frayed black ponytail had changed little in all that time.

Shoryu couldn't believe he never noticed what a striking resemblance the man bore to his sensei, for this was Reizo's father and head of the Zawa clan. He also couldn't believe what dismal luck he was having today.

"Congratulations all!" he began, spreading his arms out like an embracing father. "You have made it all the way to the third stage - and just in time too! I will be the acting head judge for the final phase of the exam and a councillor if you seek any guidance, my name is Saito Yukizawa." The man gave Shoryu a look of distaste, as if to say 'but _you_ already knew that'. He stared over each of them in turn. "If you permit me a moment, I will explain th-"

The head ninja's speech was suddenly cut off by two simultaneous clicks as another pair of chutes arrived behind them. Two teams swaggered out into the spotlight, the very teams Shoryu had been expecting. The first was Kouta's group, led by the Zawa himself as he strutted with a pronounced walk towards them, weighing up the stadium with an air of smug satisfaction. Behind him walked Suzume – modestly keeping her head lowered – and her forgettable companion Norio.

The screen flashed into three distinct thirds, identifying both the Zawa and the two members of the 'Oyama' clan before labelling them collectively as 'Mixed Squad One'.

The other group followed suit, comprised of a young, ratty looking male, a female with a nose like a pug and a second male, this one hulking and well over six foot tall despite his young age. Shoryu spotted the hefty, spiked club slung over his shoulder and immediately recognised it as the weapon that had done such a number on Ayako's leg. He wanted nothing more than to rush at the Mist ninja and make him pay for what he'd done, but he had to remind himself that this was Kouta's fault more than anyone else's.

This new group - 'Mist Squad Nineteen' according to the enormous screen - had no doubt been bribed into helping Kouta carry out his ambush. They'd probably been promised a key in exchange for their assistance, as Kouta knew they'd need more manpower to stop Squad Thirteen following their failure inside the shell of the Island Turtle.

With that in mind Shoryu's instincts turned to rounding on Kouta and attempting to beat him senseless while he had the chance, but there was no reward in that besides instant gratification. Ayako had acted so selflessly to ensure they had a shot at passing, and if he attacked Kouta now then he'd be disqualified. He'd also be a hypocrite, as he'd instructed Kazuya to 'let it go' in a similar fashion just a short week ago on the ferry here.

"Ah, Kouta! Just in time!" exclaimed Saito, visibly happy to see his nephew after spending days worrying about whether or not he'd make it, since _all_ Zawa graduates passed on their first Chunin Exam. "I was just about to explain to rules of stage three to _Shoryu _and his friends here."

Shoryu chuckled to himself; the heavy emphasis Saito placed on his own name forced Kouta to bow his head in what appeared to be a silent apology. Any onlooker would think it suspicious, but now that Shoryu knew Kouta had been specifically instructed to take him out, the disapproval showed by the head of the clan was so blatant he might as well have screamed a curse at the boy for his failure to stop the family's dirty secret.

With his head still bowed in shame Kouta responded, "Then continue Lord Yukizawa."

"Alright then." Saito grinned; it made him feel powerful having all the knowledge that these kids did not, so he kept them waiting in suspense for as long as he could get away with. "You may recall that at the very beginning of these exams, you were told that should you be amongst the lucky few to reach the third stage, your odds would be considerably higher if you stayed as a group.

"This is because unlike many Chunin Exams - where the squads separate at the third stage – this stage will be undertaken within the groups you registered under, although you will be graded individually."

The revelation was little surprise to Shoryu; he'd guessed as much ever since they'd been told this before they boarded. Squad Thirteen was one member down so they'd be at a disadvantage already, but he pitied Hoshi the most. With Squad Five reduced to just her she'd have to endure this trial by herself, making her chances of passing even less likely.

"Stage Three involves two ninja teams going head to head in a single battle to decide whether or not they pass or fail. Since we have an even number of squads, each one gets an opponent, but because we figured no more groups were coming with such a short amount of time left, the matches were decided this afternoon when the fans arrived. Let's see then. . . I think Cloud Squad Five should go up against Mist Squad Nineteen. . ." His gaze lingered over Shoryu with a malicious sneer. "And Cloud Squad Thirteen should go up against Mixed Squad One."

Shoryu stopped, his heart sunk by the highly predictable turn of events that couldn't possibly be a coincidence. Out of all the teams that had made it this far, his fate would be decided against Kouta of all people. He knew that Saito had planned this in advance, that if by some miracle Shoryu succeeded in making it to stage three he'd be immediately batted back down by going up against Kouta's team. The other matches probably _hadn't_ already been decided – it didn't make sense for them to be so unprofessional about such a public event and schedule matches before the deadline - but Saito would see to it that his word came to pass.

"Please be aware though. Whether you win or lose your matches may be a deciding factor, but it is by no means the only one which determines whether you pass or fail. This is a test looking for you to demonstrate the qualities necessary to be a Chunin, so raw strength isn't the only thing we're watching out for. It is possible to win your match and fail; likewise, it is possible to lose your match and still pass."

_Great_ was the first thought that streamed through Shoryu's head. _Even if we somehow manage to beat the other squad I still won't pass if Saito's the head judge. It's graduation all over again, except this time I don't have Reizo to back me up._

"You may use any weapons and other equipment at your disposal to defeat your opponents. Fights will continue until someone yields, falls unconscious or dies; you must prepare yourselves for the worst. With that said, you may now exit to your private chambers through any of the available doors surrounding the arena. In the morning the schedules will be delivered to you in which will specify the times of your matches. Good luck."

With a turn and a flip of his cape Saito left them, heading back to the door he'd entered from at the base of the highest raised platform. Just like that he was gone; everything had been explained so fast that it took Shoryu a while to absorb. Upon further inspection he noticed that twenty other simple doors were positioned around the arena, and that a few of them had steel bars barricading the entrance just like the ones they'd opened to advance. He chose one that was available, and after sparing Kouta another resentful glance he set off towards it glumly.

He shuffled his feet and kept his eyes to the ground as he walked, feeling the accusing stare of Kazuya behind him demanding to know why he felt so down. He'd left Hoshi without saying a word; what could he say after all? She'd be offended if he offered sympathies and she'd see right through his false act of bravado if he tried to encourage her. Their agreement had been to cooperate for stage two. Now that stage three was underway she had no obligation to ever speak with them again.

Guilt consumed him; after all Ayako was right: Kouta and Suzume targeted him and Kazuya. Yuudai, Jinga and Ayako had been innocent victims caught up in the crossfire of a petty upholding of family honour and whatever twisted incentive Suzume had kept close to her chest.

All he needed now was solitude and rest – he needed time to absorb the events of the day and reflect upon tomorrow, but no matter how hard he planned, the situation remained the same. He was up against Kouta, a Raikyogan user and two other ninja from some 'Oyama' clan whose abilities remained a secret. Considering that their enemy seemed to know everything about their own jutsu, fighting them became hopeless; they'd probably planned for their battle ever since they forged their foreign alliance.

Shoryu had almost reached the unlocked door when the sound of gruff laughter sounded from above him. He looked up, realising quickly that he was at the borders of the arena as he regarded the amused expressions of the men who took the very front seats some ten metres above.

"So what are my odds?" he asked miserably, barely speaking loud enough for them to hear him.

These weren't just gamblers, these were the professionals – the men who held the cards, took the bets and decided which stakes were reasonable. A few sat with clipboards whilst others exchanged fat wads of cash that Shoryu reckoned were beyond even a Jonin's pay. His comment resulted in another wave of laughter going around the five of them. One of them, a short man with a plump frame and a scruffy beard, leaned forward on the rails.

"Kid you don't even wanna know!" he roared, prompting more giggles amongst the group. When all had died down he continued, "Let's just say they're even lower than no-mates over there."

Shoryu turned and followed his gaze, noticing Hoshi as she silently entered her chambers wearing an expression even more pitiful than his own. "I see. . ."

"No hard feelings though; all the best out there tomorrow!" said the man.

"Is anyone actually betting on me?" he asked, hopeful that at least one of them was the kind to back the dark horse. None replied for a few seconds.

"I am!" Another voice was heard, one that was stirring and feminine amidst the small crowd of fat bearded men. Shoryu followed the voice to see a woman making her way around the stands towards the railings, a woman who was unmistakeable for anyone else but his own blood.

"_Mom?_" Shoryu couldn't believe his eyes, so he had to ask just to make sure it was true. The tall, elegant form of his mother joined the group and leaned over the railings to look down over the pair of ninja. "What are you doing here?" Shoryu added, dumbfounded.

"You really thought I'd miss this? Especially when you've gotten so far? Honestly Shoryu you could've had a little more faith in your own mother! I know I don't usually go these kinds of events but I wouldn't miss it for the world if you're involved."

Shoryu sported the vague look of a contented smile, though it was short lived as the reality returned to him and he moved onto his next question. "Wait – so are you _actually_ betting on me or was that just a reassuring metaphor?"

Yuuko Aizawa responded by slipping her hand into her bag and pulling out a few notes. She handed it to the brutish gamblers along with a small slip of paper. "One thousand ryo on Shoryu to pas; and here's my seat number."

The boy's eyebrows furrowed – one thousand ryo was pocket change. "That's not very reassuring," he pointed out.

"Shoryu with your odds we'll make a small fortune from that when you win," she replied with a smile.

Her words only wounded the boy though. "_When_ I win?" His looked to his feet again. "Don't get your hopes up too high mom, I'm really in over my head here. These guys are right; in fact I bet their stakes are generous."

"_How much?_" cried one of the men, causing another round of thunderous laughter to fall upon the group. Yuuko looked slightly disheartened until Shoryu was almost knocked to the ground by his partner slapping him a little too hard on the back.

"Ignore him, he's just a little shaken," Kazuya called up, his voice filled with a confidence and charisma that it usually lacked. It was a voice he'd clearly worked on, one that commanded the authority of a general or a Kage - or a _Taisho_. "You've produced a fine son here Miss Aizawa – you'd be proud if you saw what he's been through this week. The truth is that I'll be honoured to have him by my side tomorrow. In fact I'd settle for no other, even if I had the pick of all the ninja in the Cloud."

"Well you're definitely Kazuya then! Shoryu's told me all about you," assumed Yuuko.

"Nothing bad I trust, though I hope you'll forgive us if we take our leave now. We've had a trying day."

"Of course, of course. Good l- . . . Do your best tomorrow!"

Shoryu mumbled comments of thanks and farewells to his mother before entering through the plain door and softly pushing it shut once Kazuya entered.

It was a grand room of congratulations for the finalists, complete with three matching four-poster beds and infinitely more space than those hellish quarters they'd received on the ship. Vibrant colours of blue and purple painted it as a sign of modern civilisation that Shoryu thought he'd never see again after the week traversing from stuffy jungle to flowing tundra. Other rooms led off into a bathroom on one side, an armoury on another and exit stairs on another should they wish to enter the stands.

It was the sight of the third bed – the one which would remain unfilled - that pushed Shoryu over the edge. After moping for the last hour he suddenly let off a raging kick at the nearest object to him, sending an empty trash can bouncing off the walls before finally bouncing to a stop. With his wrath taken out on something he was satisfied, and so he marched over to his bed and sat down into the most comfortable seat he'd experienced in a while.

Kazuya let him enjoy the silence for more than a minute; Shoryu made no attempt to go to sleep, he remained motionless as he sat up, deep in thought with his hands balled up into tightly clenched fists.

"I take it something's wrong then?" presumed the samurai.

Shoryu scoffed. "We can't win this."

"You don't know that."

"There's no point in even trying, and with what we promised to Ayako, not to mention the blind faith my mom has in me - they'll be devastated if we can't win."

"Stop talking as if we've lost already," Kazuya instructed, his tone falling dangerously low. "I meant what I said out there, but I didn't take you for a coward."

Shoryu shook his head fiercely. "That's not it! Kouta's a Raikyogan user – he's way out of my league, and I'm not trading him for Suzume before you suggest it; I'm not gonna prevent you from getting your answers! Ayako and my mother both expect me to beat this guy who had a damn Jonin-level dojutsu at the age of eight! And even if some act of god happens and I win, with Saito as the final judge there's no way I'll be able to pass!"

"It's a team battle Shoryu; for once I'm willing to put aside my ideals and work with you on this one, you should be grateful for that."

"Kouta wants me and the Oyama girl wants you; that much is clear. I'm sure they've found out a way to challenge us one on one already – whoever gets that Norio guy as well I suppose just draws the short straw."

"Well then we'll just have to find some way to stop that plan before it happens. I'm sure we can think of something."

Shoryu snorted a noise of disapproval and turned his head. "Easy for you to say - I'm sure your odds aren't quite so dismal as mine. You'll be going on without me and Ayako as a Chunin I'm afraid."

"This _isn't_ about odds you idiot!" insisted the samurai. He slammed his fist down on the furnished bedside table to pronounce his point. "In a battle between men one makes their own luck. Forget the gamblers. Kouta might think he has you worked out, but he forgets that you've seen the Raikyogan enough times to know how to beat it. At least think about it would you? It's what you're best at after all."

Shoryu paused briefly and considered the surprisingly wise-sounding words of his partner. Kazuya may have just stumbled onto something; he _had _seen the Raikyogan many times. His mother had showed it to him on a few occasions, he'd been on the receiving end of it from Zakari and he'd seen its more advanced strain the 'Daimyo' up close and personal from his powerful sensei. The Raikyogan did have _one _glaring weakness. It was one that Shoryu couldn't possibly exploit on his own, but with Kazuya around things might be different.

". . . We might actually have something here," he admitted at last.

"Good, and Shoryu," said Kazuya. The boy finally looked up from his hunched over pose of sulking and straight into the full force of a haymaker connecting perfectly to his cheek. Knocked straight into oblivion, Shoryu collapsed perfectly upon his pillow, prompting the samurai to continue.

"I don't ever want to hear you talk like that again," Kazuya ordered. "If what you said happens - if I pass and you don't – then in the end it'll be the same as me failing. You're one of the only ninja in this country who understands me. Without at least one of Squad Thirteen by my side I won't progress to Chunin; I refuse to. You got that?"

From his dazed and half-conscious position of seeing whirling stars Shoryu brought up his limp right hand in a vague attempt to give a thumbs-up. With eyes still closed he continued, "I think I caught the gist of it," he said, his speech muffled as he nursed the cavern of his swollen jaw with a numb tongue.

"Good. Now get some rest, I'd hate to have us go out tomorrow just because we didn't get enough sleep."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Howdy all! Poor Ayako, but maximum respect to her as far as I'm concerned – I'm starting to like her more and more as this fic goes on. Probably should've broken this chapter into two again; eh well, to be perfectly honest I just couldn't be bothered splitting the word document, and even less motivated to try and think up of another snappy, thought-provoking chapter title xD

So once again I'm using the stage from the original series as a template to base my third stage on. Instead of a tournament, the groups each compete in a single _team battle _that determines whether they pass or fail. For those wondering why I didn't do a full tournament though, it's pretty simple. For starters I don't really have enough characters (only six characters with names progressed to the finals), secondly I don't have enough chapters left to justify doing one (I'm on a tight schedule), and lastly I just think it would be boring.

The Chunin exams were brilliant in Naruto but I can't help but think it would translate BADLY to literature. People like action in books, but if I made five or six chapters just with one fight sequence after another it would get boring as hell both to read and write, so I've made it so that it all boils down to this one battle.

The stadium at the head of the Island Turtle is something else I wanted to mention. You know that huge arena in the third stage of Naruto's exams? It's supposed to be like five times bigger than that. Why? Well, in Naruto, a structured ninja culture is one that's relatively new to the world – if you think about it, the first Kage lived only about a hundred years before Naruto was born, or even less. In those hundred years the ninja community seems to have become a lot more commercialised than it was at the beginning, as you see with the sheer amount of random spectators at Naruto's third stage exam.

Add another _two hundred _years to that and I imagined you'd have an event that pretty much the entire world has heard of. What was once a small, privatised, rare union of nations has evolved into the ninja equivalent of American Idol, so to speak. So that's why the stadium is so huge, the gambling so elaborate and the action broadcast on one of those giant monitoring screens you see at those American football games (I forget what they're called – I hear the name on the E4 channel all the time but I can't put my finger on it, all I know is that it sounds like a Transformer).

So then, will Shoryu and Kazuya pass or fail? How does Shoryu plan on beating the Raikyogan? What _does _the mysterious Suzume know about Kazuya? And which Kage has something to hide? Find out ALL of this and more in the next chapter!

Also updated the Jutsu Chart at last, it's getting pretty huge now. Can't imagine what it'll look like at the end of Legacies.


	21. Chapter 21 The Third Stage, The Samurai

Chapter 21: The Third Stage – The Samurai

"Shoryu. Got a guest."

The boy stirred uncomfortably in his sleep, eyes blinking open and taking in the new day's radiance with a mild amount of strain before a bucket of icy cold water was tipped over his head. Shoryu leapt out of bed with a start. Shivering and alarmed, he tripped up over his own left foot and tumbled back down to the floor. The next sound he heard was Kazuya laughing contentedly, along with a shocked female gasp that sounded all too familiar.

"That's way too harsh! You guys have _no _limits whatsoever do you?" said the girl.

"I'm afraid not. Any kind of boundaries went out of the window a long time ago," admitted Kazuya.

Rubbing the sleep quickly out of his eye,s Shoryu followed the first voice only to have his spirits rise in elation as his hopeful suspicions were confirmed. In the rays of summer pouring in through the window her natural blonde hair seemed to shine with a golden glow as she gave a charming smile. A cast covered the entirety of her left leg and she walked with a crutch to support her, but there was no mistaking her for anyone else.

"Ayako!" cried Shoryu.

Her smile widened upon knowing that even in her brief absence she'd been missed. "That's me," she said.

"But how'd you get here? Don't tell me you're competing in the finals?"

"On this thing? Hell no." Ayako gave a wary glance at the rock solid cast that almost doubled her weight. "When the deadline came last night the order was given out to gather up all students who'd either been injured or couldn't complete the third stage. Since the three of us were so close to the doors we were some of the first to be extracted, and we get rewarded for our almost-victory by being allowed to watch the third stage play out."

"That's great!" Shoryu went numb even as he spoke, partly due to the cold water still freezing him, but also due to the unnecessary stress he'd have to cope with again. He wanted her by his side, but it was on the battlefield where she belonged. Seeing her cheering from the sidelines along with his mother would just put more pressure on him. There was still one question he was curious about though. "What about your leg?" he asked. "Is it gonna be okay?"

Ayako made a face of disappointment and folded her arms. "I'll be in this stupid cast for about three months, followed by another two of rehabilitation physio before I'm running around again."

"So there's no lasting damage?"

"Stop being so optimistic!" she insisted with a laugh. "I'll have surgical scars, not to mention five months of my life that I'm never going to get back! Five whole months!"

The boy shrugged, sharing her good humour with a grin. "Hey, at least that puts you in top form just in time for the next Chunin exams," he observed.

"That's true enough. Assuming you two pass this time I think I'll take it with Yuudai and Jinga in the next term."

Kazuya nodded as if in approval to her smart suggestion, leaving Shoryu with an overwhelming sense of confusion. He blinked twice and cocked an eyebrow as he addressed his comrades.

"Did I miss something?" he asked.

"Oh yeah." Kazuya motioned to the door nonchalantly. "Hoshi passed."

"_What?_" A dumbstruck Shoryu pressed for answers; where was he when this had happened? Had he really slept through it all? How long had he been asleep? Now that he stopped and took in his surroundings, the light pouring in through the window outside suggested a time much later than the break of dawn.

"Yeah! It was about an hour ago - Hoshi lost her battle against those three Mist ninja but they still let her pass," Ayako explained. "She _did _take down two out of three after all, including that guy with the club who broke my leg. In fact he was easiest of all for her – he just rushed at her like an idiot so she used that kinetic displacement thing to turn his force against him. I think she broke his sternum."

"Seriously? That's great! But hang on, what time is it?"

Kazuya took the answer to this question, wanting to be the one to break the disturbing news to his sparring partner. "It's one in the afternoon."

"_What__? _No way!" Shoryu threw on his shirt and scratched is head. "But we went to bed at eleven! You mean I've been sleeping for _fourteen hours? _You could've woken me up!"

"We could have, but we figured you deserved the sleep; you probably spent more chakra, energy and brainpower than any of us in those first two stages and we never got a proper rest throughout all of it. I figured we'd make full use of our resources whilst we've got beds to sleep in and four walls around us."

Eventually Shoryu sighed and nodded in understanding. He still would've liked to see Hoshi's fight, but if getting up earlier than he had to meant losing precious energy for his fight then he couldn't risk it. He was sure Hoshi would understand his absence, but fourteen hours? He never realised how tired he'd been last night until he compared it to the alertness he now experienced.

"Don't feel so bad – Yuudai hasn't woken up yet either," lamented Ayako.

"Is he alright?" demanded Shoryu, suddenly being reminded of the events of the previous day. "What about Jinga?"

"Calm down, they're both going to be fine." She gave a reassuring smile. "Jinga completely exhausted his chakra supply but he's back on his feet now. Yuudai lost a lot of blood and he used up all his reserves as well; then again, his chakra capacity is bigger than anyone we know so it'll take him much longer to recover. The bigger they are the harder they fall I guess - he'll be fine though."

"I'm glad they're alright. We owe them a lot after everything that happened last week," said Shoryu. He turned to Kazuya and began again, "so what time is our fight then?"

"Two o'clock," the samurai replied, showing not a hint of sympathy

Shoryu's heart did a somersault in his chest. "_One hour?_" he demanded. "You didn't think to wake me up until _one hour_ before we get started? We've got to plan! We've got to get ready!" The boy rattled on at some length like this for another five minutes before he reminded himself that his lecture both fell on deaf ears and robbed him of what little time he had remaining.

He bade Ayako a brief farewell before retreating into the en-suite bathroom for a shower – the warm and refreshing kind complete with actual steam that he hadn't experienced in over a week. He could've stayed in there for the remainder of his hour, but the battle was close at hand; with agonising difficulty he tore himself away from the therapeutic splash and the tickling bubbles to get dried up and change back into his outfit, which actually appeared to have been dried overnight.

After his revitalizing soak Shoryu met up with Kazuya in the armoury on the west side of their apartment. Shuriken, swords, ropes, paper bombs, kunai; anything that a ninja could possibly have a use for was kept here. Kazuya agreed that many failed on this stage simply due to the overwhelming amount of choice. Students would kit up with equipment they had little experience with simply because they could, and their unfamiliarity with them led to their failure.

It was because of this that the pair decided to take only what they needed. Shoryu restocked his trio of windmill shuriken that had been reduced to one in the second stage, though Kazuya needed nothing; his sword was all he required. The two wandered between the three aisles and casually inspected the odd tweaks of strange metals and the faded paper of ancient scrolls. As they walked they discussed strategy, using their forty minutes remaining to devise some kind of a plan.

It took them only a few sessions of fast-paced brainstorming to come up with a basic plan. Kazuya had been right all along. Now that Shoryu had seen the Raikyogan half a dozen times, thinking up a counter-attack to it didn't take long at all. Of course this only applied to Kouta – Suzume and Norio were a completely different story when they had no idea what either of them were capable of.

Shoryu bit off a curse, scolding himself for not asking Ayako to investigate the Oyama clan when he had the chance. After all, deception and intelligence gathering was part of a ninja's job, so would it be against the rules to send someone who had already been disqualified? It mattered little anyway – for now they had to stick with what they knew on Kouta and play the rest as it came.

What worried Shoryu was the fact that their current plan relied on the two of them being partnered together. If they found themselves separated it was all for naught. He couldn't summon Kyoh for backup either. Ever since Reizo had warned him that spies for the clones could've been everywhere his paranoia grew whenever he saw a large crowd of people. One hundred thousand people would be watching today, and it only took one of them seeing Kyoh to make sure a nice bull's-eye was painted on Shoryu's forehead.

Countering Kouta by himself would be difficult, but not impossible – he just needed a solid plan. Shoryu found himself pacing back and forth along the aisles before he eventually came to a mannequin, fitted with tough fibres and overlays for protection. The outfit might have been handy, but it hindered his movement and was too foreign to move in comfortably. Shoryu's eyes instead wandered down to the statue's hands before lighting up in glee.

As Kazuya began to question his erratic behaviour Shoryu bolted down the second aisle and tipped up a basket of assorted gloves.

* * *

"You had better not be lying to us Hiromasa or I swear I'll smash the white right out of those eyes!" roared Teruo. The eleventh Mizukage had abandoned all pretence earlier on and was as blunt with his words as an infant. The shark-fin Samehada sword quivered on his back, as if restless – thirsty for blood in reacting to the emotions of its master.

The twelfth Hokage meanwhile sighed and placed a hand to his forehead. He swept away a strand of chocolate brown hair that parted down and tried his best to keep his composure. "For the last time, why would I kill the Tsuchikage? What possible motivation do you expect me to have for commanding an army of clones to kill one of my oldest friends?" he said.

"Don't give us that sympathy rubbish Hokage," chided Kira. His insults had gone so low in the last few hours that nothing surprised Reizo anymore. "We all know your clan; you Hyuga, no one has ever trusted your kind, with your archaic ways and your secrecy – you're always there when something bad happens, it's a historical fact."

Finally the Hokage's threshold had not just been crossed, it had been utterly broken. After keeping calm for so long the Hyuga stamped down an infuriated fist to the table and fixed the Raikage with a cold stare that commanded silence from the room. "You really are a fool," he muttered. "You have the nerve to use my family's unending loyalty to its country as a base to accuse me of treason? What idiocy is this?"

"Alright, alright," said Peparo, waving his hands up and down as a plea for them to stop. "Just chill – I think we can all agree that out of all of us, Hiro is the least likely."

But the Hokage wasn't finished on his rant just yet. "I believe I speak for all the other Kage when I say that you've been in that chair for too long old man; your judgement is truly clouded."

Kira rose to his feet and seemed about to reply with an equally angry remark when Kikuchiyo beat him to the punch. Sweating and nervous, the samurai's bald head gleamed like polished steel under sunlight as he addressed the roundtable.

"That's quite enough!" he bellowed. After the heat settled into cool animosity the Taisho dabbed his head and spoke again. "Session adjourned for half an hour; if you can't come up with a resolution in the next meeting then there's nothing more I can do. Go now to your advisors, and come back with a clear head if you can manage it."

As Kira fetched his stick and began to slowly inch his way over, Reizo took the time to look at the other bodyguards of the Kage. Peparo's and Hisae's Jonin gave them a hard time and advised them to be more cautious, but Teruo's on the other hand seemed just as brutish and uncivilised as he was. Hiromasa Hyuga was actually the only one who seemed to be listening to the concerns of his peers; Reizo respected him the most for that, not to mention his comment on the Raikage that he'd wanted to say his entire life.

The striking of a match alerted Reizo to Kira relighting his pipe beside them. The two of them along with Hatori huddled up and retreated to the outer columns of the room, where their voices wouldn't be so easily heard. After drawing in and exhaling smoke the Raikage pressed Hatori for details.

"So what did you find?" he asked eagerly. "It was the Hyuga wasn't it? I'm right aren't I?"

"Uh, no sir," replied Hatori, as if apologising. He cast a glance over to each of them before elaborating, sure of what he'd seen. "Actually, I found that none of them were lying."

"_What?_" Kira became angry in his confusion.

"Well, I studied all four of them in turn and came out with nothing. The Mizukage probably has a few skeletons in his closet but where matters of the clones where concerned they were all completely sincere."

"Hmm." Kira took another suck of his pipe and pondered, and his expression was thoughtful as he considered the news with suspicion. After a number of smoke rings he responded accordingly. "I see three possibilities. First: that one of them has managed to shield themselves against Hatori's power. Second: that the culprit is not in this room – the Kage may have had documents stolen from their office. Third: that one of the Kage is being manipulated into acting for the clones. They may not even know that they're leaking information, hence the lack of lies."

"Perhaps," offered Reizo, staring into space in deep thought.

The Raikage spared Reizo a look of unease before once again going off on a rant and venting his frustrations on the Jonin pair. He spoke in jumbled insults about each of the Kage and instantly dismissed or ignored any advice the two of them had about how to handle the final meeting. When the half an hour was over Reizo felt like he'd been standing in that dark corner for a week.

Kikuchiyo hollered over for the five Kage to return. Reizo let Kira take the lead by a few steps as he made his way back to the roundtable, but when Hatori passed him the Jonin gripped him by the arm.

"Listen to me," Reizo hissed, careful to keep his voice as quiet as possible so that it would be dimmed to outsiders by the dull chatter from the table. "Before we go back there, there's something I want you to do." After that, Reizo leaned in closer and whispered a specific set of instructions in Hatori's ear, paying no attention as the man's expression went from intrigued, to confused, and then to horrified.

"But that's treason!" he hissed back. A shush from Reizo came his way when the Kazekage noticed them bickering.

The Jonin lowered his voice to reply. "It's just a precaution. I don't want to believe it any more than you do, believe me, but we have to be sure. Besides, he never has to know about it, and it's not treason it turns out to be true."

* * *

The first thing Shoryu noticed when he stepped out onto the arena floor was his eyes and ears being overwhelmed with information. The sun had reached its zenith right over the coliseum, bathing the whole structure in a cool glow and transforming the gritted surface into a harsh yellow glaze that made him squint. Blinded, he realised with a start that he hadn't yet set foot out of the cool, dim hole of his quarters today – hardly a good start.

As his eyes began to slowly adjust his ears became the next victims of the torture. Cheers from one hundred thousand screaming fans deafened him, and all around him the mixed voices blurred into one fragmented shout that made his ears ring. A slap on his back startled the boy until he realised it was a reassuring gesture from Kazuya.

As the giant screen lit up with their profiles the two hopeful Chunin strode out onto the field, prompting the cheer to grow louder to mark their arrival. The arena floor was a plain circle of orange turf, yet its size dwarfed that of any structure Shoryu had ever come across; it took the two a whole minute to reach the centre. By that time the screams had died down only to be replaced by another deafening roar to accompany Mixed Squad One's arrival.

Shoryu couldn't help but feel that the cheers for Kouta's gang were louder than their own. Worse still, Kouta himself seemed to relish the attention. He kissed his hands and waved to the crowd in his arrogance whilst his teammates modestly plodded behind him. Shoryu took ten steps apart from Kazuya and took his position, shifting uncomfortably in his new gloves as Kouta took place opposite him twenty paces away. Suzume did the same with Kazuya, though Norio hung back a little; Shoryu wondered what he was up to.

After studying the smaller boy Shoryu's eyes wandered to the viewing screen. It displayed a simple digital timer showing the time to be three minutes to two, counting down the seconds ominously like the ticking of a bomb.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" called out a voice. Shoryu looked up to source only to find his gaze blinded by sunlight. The crowd fell silent as the boy finally made sense of what he was looking at: Saito Yukizawa's voice was amplified around the arena, though the source of it came from the platform raised some two hundred feet above the action. His figure was merely a silhouette in the light, yet the sound of his voice and charismatic swagger assured Shoryu it was him.

"Following the climactic last battle of the Mist against the Cloud, we now have another feature in store for you. These ninja need no introduction for those of you following the stages." Despite his claim, upon Saito's last word the great screen lit up again to show the profiles of the five competing ninja. Shoryu noticed that his information segment had now been updated to mention his outcast from his clan.

He also noticed something else too; around the arena floor and up on the stands the blinking red lights had been replaced with cameras, no doubt to capture the action and see every gory detail in a glorified resolution.

As Saito spoke Shoryu's heart began to pound against his chest and he began to sweat in the heat. Two o'clock wouldn't slow down for him - time began to fly by in the blink of an eye until the moment he'd been dreading would finally arrive.

"Hey!"

Shoryu looked up, seeing that it was Kazuya who had disturbed the chaos in his mind.

"You'd better relax, stop shaking," he added. "Just stick to the plan and we'll be fine."

Shoryu nodded and swallowed his nerves; he never even realised he'd been shaking until told. He quickly told himself that he had to get back in the game and focused his attention to his immediate problem. He probed Kouta for any kind of weakness before moving onto Suzume. Once he'd gotten back into stoic mode of analysis Kazuya hummed in approval.

Saito continued, "Mixed Squad One: Kouta Renazawa from the Village Hidden in the Clouds along with Suzume and Norio Oyama from the Village Hidden in the Mist! Cloud Squad Thirteen: Shoryu Aizawa from the Village Hidden in the Clouds and Kazuya Takashi from the Village Hidden in the Glacier. So we've got a samurai in our midst – I thought these were Chunin exams!"

To his credit Kazuya completely ignored the jape made at his expense. Even when a collective laugh of the entire crowd echoed from all directions he remained still and motionless. Admiring his composure, Shoryu did his best to follow his partner's lead.

To Shoryu's left the giant screen flipped into different segments again, this time displaying two halves depicting the teams in live action. On the top half Mixed Squad stood poised and ready for action – Kouta had even found the filming camera to wink at – and on the bottom half Shoryu and Kazuya remained stationary. At the line where the two halves met, the red digital timer continued to count down. Ten seconds left – Shoryu wondered where all the time had gone. Nine, eight, seven.

"So without further ado!" called Saito, clearly watching the timer himself.

Six, five, four.

"Let the battle . . ."

Three, two, one.

"_BEGIN!_"

Right off the bat two of the combatants fell into a short sequence of hand signs before Shoryu had time to react. Kazuya and Norio had been the quickdraws, and the battle took a turn for the worse in the first few seconds. Kazuya, being only vaguely familiar with his jutsu of choice, took six whole hand signs to cast his measly spell. Norio on the other hand was a clear master; he took only five seals to execute a jutsu far more powerful.

"_Lava Style: Hell's Fountain Jutsu!_" he cried.

Kazuya started his sentence in the moment Norio finished his own. "_Water Style: Aqua Pistol!_" He turned and aimed the shot right towards Kouta, hoping to soak the Zawa right before he had the chance to activate his precious Raikyogan. Since Norio's jutsu came first though, his own was interrupted.

Kazuya's dismal jet of water no more powerful than a splash evaporated into nothing but steam when the ground between he and Shoryu burst open and a great tirade of lava leapt into the sky. Norio had cast his jutsu – a powerful technique well beyond his years – out in a T-shape in front of him. Kazuya's left and front were blocked by the fifteen foot wall of relentless magma, and behind him the borders of the arena blocked any way for him to get to Shoryu.

Norio no doubt stood behind his makeshift wall, keeping his hands to the floor and segregating the battle into two fights. Kazuya was locked in his own arena with Suzume, whereas Shoryu had to face Kouta head on. It went exactly as the enemy squad had planned. As honour bound as he was, the samurai's first instinct was to get to Shoryu. Nothing else mattered; he had to back up his partner and disable Kouta's Raikyogan. Without thinking twice he eased into a trio of hand signs and blasted at the flaming wall.

"_Ice Style: Cryo Blast Juts-_"

A heel connected with his jaw, suddenly knocking the boy right off his feet and onto his back. He was hit with such force that he almost rolled right into the hissing wall of surging lava. He got to his feet the moment he regained clarity though, and found himself facing Suzume as he'd expected.

It was strange; she'd crossed the distance between them much faster than physics should have allowed her to, and her kick contained far more momentum and power behind it than her small stature permitted. Whoever this was - whatever answers she had, they were irrelevant now. Squad Thirteen came first, and Shoryu was in danger. In spite of his eagerness though, Kazuya knew that if he kept taking blows like that one he'd be rendered unconscious before half a dozen fell. He had to find some way around her – if he turned his attention to the lava barrier she'd exploit the opening in a heartbeat.

"I expected better," she mused.

"I don't have time for this," said Kazuya. "Move it."

"I think you've got bigger problems to worry about than your teammate right now. You can't expect to get to him without going through me. Forget about him – your target is in front of you."

Kazuya mumbled a low growl as he began to form hand signs. As he'd suspected she was dead right. It was pointless going after Shoryu now – his hands were full. "So be it then. _Cryo Blast Jutsu!_"

"_Molten Blast Jutsu!" _replied the girl.

The samurai almost couldn't believe his eyes when the pair ended on the exact same sign only to fire out parallel attacks. His own jet of frozen, scraping ice was met with an equally potent blast of bubbling magma - the same kind that enclosed them in battle. A bang marked their collision as steam rose up from the site of impact, sweeping west with the wind away from the battle.

When the smoke cleared Suzume wore a sneaky grin. "Impressive. It looks like we've come to similar stages of development," she noted.

"You can't beat me, so stop speaking as if you know me. I'll admit it's remarkable that you managed to match my attack, but this ends here."

"Oh?" Suzume raised her eyebrows, showing off those stunning, caramelised eyes, conveying an innocence that her tone did not. "I think you'll find we share more in common than just that."

Kazuya paused, unsure of what exactly the girl was getting at. She spoke like a snake, enticing him into pressing her for details that he'd hungered so long for. Even with one hundred thousand people watching the event he would have her spill everything she knew about him. He cleared his head and spoke calmly, "What do you mean? Just who are you? It's been annoying me for a while now."

Suzume chuckled once more. "Really, in front of all these people? You know they have microphones on those cameras too – they can hear our every word."

Angered by her flamboyance, Kazuya snapped up his right hand and formed shards of chakra concentrated into icicles, blasting them at the stationary cameras mounted on the nearby floors and up on the stands. He always kept one eye on his target though, meaning that when Suzume fired off another jutsu he was already ready.

"_Lava Style: Infernal Bomb!_"

With Kazuya's guard open and his right hand occupied the girl had seized the opportunity to lob a sphere of magma in his direction. The samurai's left arm moved in a blink however, whipping out his sword and holding it before him as he finished off the last camera. Instead of cutting through the bomb as he figured though, the heavy mass of frothing lava stuck to the top blade of his sword. Its weight required him to use both hands to supress it, and when he finally got it off his sleeves were already burned by its dangerous sizzling.

He fell back into stance, pointing his left hand back towards the girl. "Now talk," he ordered. "Who are you?"

"My name is Suzume Oyama, I was born fourteen years ago on the fifth of March; I like long walks and reading books –"

"Get to the point."

"I was just about to," she said softly, smiling afterwards. "My father was Ando Oyama, and my mother is Madoka Oyama."

"I'm not sure that's relevant," Kazuya observed, coldly staring back at his mark.

"Oh but it is," said Suzume. "You see, before she married into the clan, my mother was an outsider – her name used to be Madoka . . . Senmatsu."

Despite all his training and his mental focus to remain as impartial as possible in battle, Kazuya's heart skipped a beat when he heard that name again – his father's surname. His surprise was such that he failed to notice something crucial, something that would change the battle for the worse; Suzume had begun to form hand signs – twisted, obtuse shapes made from awkwardly intertwining her fingers.

In seeing how stunned her relative was, Suzume decided to speak again when no reply came. "She's your father's sister – your aunt."

Kazuya paused. "Which would make you-"

"Your cousin, yes. Actually I'm your only _first_ cousin on your father's side. Took us a while to track you down, but we always suspected he had a child." Suzume recounted the revelation with such boredom one would think her totally uninterested, a stark contrast to Kazuya's reaction.

"What happened to my father? Where is he now?"

"Michio? Oh you don't know?" she teased. "Oh Kazuya, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but your dad's been dead a long time – almost eight years now."

The samurai flinched ever so slightly and bit down on his tongue; he'd expected as much, but the reality of it still managed to shock him. The only thing he could do was to ask the obvious and pray for a straight answer. "Then how did he die?"

Unfortunately he didn't get one. Suzume grinned and gave an aloof jerk of her head – towards the bubbling fountain of molten lava that split the arena in half and separated him from his teammate. "Maybe you should ask your partner," she suggested casually.

"Shoryu?" demanded Kazuya, his heart rate doubling again. "What does he have to do with thi-?"

"-Looks like I'm out of time!" Suzume cut him off before he could finish his sentence, slapping her hands for the fifteenth and final hand sign. Only then did Kazuya notice the strange familiarity of the hand signs she'd been working into – they were his own. The girl closed her eyes.

Kazuya centred himself as best as possible and braced himself for the technique that was to come; he feared what was on the way and prayed it wasn't the case, though somewhere in the back of his mind he knew exactly what those eyes would reveal. He dropped into stance and prepared his mind, showing no signs of surprise when Suzume's eyes opened to a black and white spiral pattern. He'd never met another who possessed the same eyes as himself.

"_Jikogan!_" she said

_Well,_ he supposed. _At least I know what it's called now_.

Kazuya drew his sword and flourished it over his head as the girl's speed accelerated to inhuman heights. He saw only a blur as she zipped left and right in a zigzag path towards him before leaping up to the air. When she began her descent Suzume arched her body into a descending crescent kick, but Kazuya knew the dojutsu better than any; he told himself that countering it would be no problem.

He lashed out once, wheeling up the lower blade of his weapon with perfect accuracy and pinpoint precision in a manoeuvre that would've cut most in half, or at least claimed a leg. Neither befell Suzume. Instead she twisted in mid-flight, avoiding the damage completely and spinning into a kick that must've surely cracked a rib. Bruised and beaten, Kazuya was hurled a whole eight feet by the force of her amplified impact.

But this was no time to recover from his injuries. The moment the samurai looked up from his back a torrent of lava came surging his way. He rolled away on his stomach before hopping back to his feet, narrowly avoiding being turned into broth by the scalding hot substance. By the time he regained focus she was upon him again. Utilising a still mind and perfect concentration allowed Kazuya to dodge the rain of strong punches that she threw his way in a hazy sequence of blurs.

Each of them hit him, yet he was saved the brunt of the impact by closing himself off and relying purely on instinctive reflexes. They would graze off his arms or hammer into less vital spots in his body, and at the end of it Kazuya was still standing when Suzume decided that her Kekkei Genkai was suitable. He glimpsed her forming hand signs and did the same, only his was shorter and far less complex.

"_Ice Style: Frozen Wall!_" he announced, planting the ground as he did so. His three-foot thick pillar of smoking ice rose from the ground before him mere seconds before it was ravaged by the onslaught from Suzume's Molten Blast. It would melt in seconds if he was lucky, buying him only a moment, if a very brief one.

_Think_, he told himself, trying his best to imitate Shoryu's analytical approach. _If I want to stand a chance I need to activate the dojutsu – it's the only way to go toe to toe with her in close quarters. But I don't have the opening to form fifteen hand signs; she's pinning me down before I can form even three. I need to create some kind of window – about ten seconds at best._

A sudden reflection came to Kazuya; he considered for a moment that he'd never actually thought like this before. Usually in a battle only his movements and his opponent's mattered, but now he was debating strategy, different approaches and even deception. These were the Chunin exams after all, and he'd stated already that he was willing to put aside his ideals just this once if it meant victory.

With that in mind an idea worked its way into his head. He felt guilty for even considering such an underhand ploy, but before his conscience told him otherwise he'd already discarded any remorse and began a complex sequence of signs. Once his barricade had been melted into mist his last seal was complete – he struck the ground with a fist.

"_Ice Style: Cryo Valley!_"

With no other way to progress Suzume was forced to retreat as jagged spikes of ice bloomed from the ground beneath her, sprouting up into a crystal formation of razor-sharp pillars that grew fifteen feet into the air. White-blue against spires made a nice contrast against the steady river of magma shooting to the air behind it.

"_Ice Style: Substitution!"_

She heard his voice call out again but paid it little heed with her attention focused on dodging the frozen skewers that grew like flowers underfoot. After quickly darting away Suzume managed to get clear of the blast's radius and gain a moment to survey just what exactly had happened.

Around Kazuya a vale of ice had been formed in a full circle, spanning out for a whole three metres surrounding him. Had she been a sentimental being Suzume might have thought the arrangement rather beautiful. The gaps between the shards were too narrow and too sharp to slip between to reach him, and far too high to be within jumping distance. She debated walking up them and traversing across once she was atop the barricade, though another look at the impalement which would surely greet her if she lost footing told her otherwise.

Suzume clapped slowly and deliberately, congratulating the boy for his devious and powerful technique; doing it by speaking would be impossible due to her lips being sped up along with the rest of her body. Without wasting any more time the kunoichi showed a trio of hand signs that moved as a blur to any of the front-seaters who witnessed it.

"_Molten Blast Stream!_"

In a show of equal mastery of the stream technique Suzume concentrated her jutsu into a steady flow rather than a single burst. Lava spilled from her hands in a relentless waterfall of bubbling orange; she smirked as it washed over the Cryo Canyon like a disease, gradually melting it down into nothing but malformed pillars already fading into steam. She'd flooded Kazuya's protective shielding with her own signature jutsu, and before long all that remained was the stationary figure of the samurai at its centre.

"Gotcha," she muttered to herself. From her pocket Suzume snatched a trio of shuriken; she gripped them between her fingers and with a flourish of her wrist sent them spinning Kazuya's way. Her smile widened when the projectiles hit their target. They buried into him one after another, one meeting his larynx, another hitting his chest and the last burying itself under his arm. Each of them was a perfect shot – pressure points that should've made him writhe in agony.

What bothered her, though, was that Kazuya remained perfectly still, and what troubled her more was the fact that not a single drop of blood came from the exposed flesh that her shuriken had struck. Her answer was accompanied by a heart-sinking revelation as he shattered into fragments of ice, scattering his appendages to the magma-soaked surface of the arena.

Suzume gritted her teeth and whirled around. "A substitution?" she said.

A reply from a spiral-eyed Kazuya came in the form of him streaming towards her like a missile and looping over with a mighty swing of the double-edged sword. Her speedy reactions meant that he missed her by a hair's breadth, yet he followed up on his attack by assaulting her with a complex barrage of timed swings. She began to utilise a strange jutsu that reminded Kazuya of the wall-walking technique, using her chakra-shrouded hands to bat away the slashes and protect her palms from the naked edge of the sword.

Just having a counter-move to the blade of a samurai didn't tip the exchange in Suzume's favour though. Now that his dojutsu – the Jikogan – had been activated, Kazuya's reflexes were on par with her own. The two duelled over their enclosed portion of the arena, matching attacks and striking back with practiced footwork and precise blows. Kazuya would manage to nick her across the arm with one edge of his blade only to have a kick from Suzume glance off him and leave a nasty bruise.

After a whole minute of the lightning blitz (made substantially longer in Jikogan time), the cousins grew weary from the duel. Simultaneously they formed a hand sign and blasted away. Lava and ice connected with the combined ferocity of a tailed beast, resulting in a steam-charged explosion that propelled them off their feet in separate directions.

Kazuya hit the ground hard. He felt the wind being forced out of him from landing on his back at such speeds, but after a cough for air his vigour allowed him to get back to both feet.

"Not bad at all Kazuya," started Suzume. Now that both had matched the same level of rapid acceleration, speaking became possible. To any onlookers their words would be complete gibberish; even if the cameras were set back up this conversation would be completely private. "I honestly didn't think someone could master the Jikogan so well without the proper training – you didn't even know its name."

"So are there others who can use it?" Kazuya asked. He doubted he'd even get a straight answer after that last cryptic message.

Suzume actually surprised him with her reply, "Four, actually – well five if you count your late father. There's me, you, my mother and our grandfather."

"Our _grandfather?_" asked Kazuya. The idea that he actually had a grandfather never even occurred to him; Suzume's words indicated that he was still alive too.

"Of course – he created the Jikogan," she said with a shrug.

"He _created _it?" Kazuya's brain wrinkled as he considered the implications. "But how could he-"

"Oops!" Suzume slapped a hand to her mouth and sniggered. "I think I might've said too much there."

Kazuya growled, irritated; clearly she had no intention of discussing the matter further and took joy in infuriating the samurai by only offering him a small piece of the great puzzle. He knew that he shouldn't have asked about more for fear of the same thing happening, but his words tumbled from his mouth without his realising.

"So why are you here? What is all this? Why enter the Chunin exams just to pursue me?" he demanded.

"I was ordered to check how you were getting on of course – to see if you're ready to be taken yet."

"_Taken__?_ . ." Kazuya trailed off – where had he heard that before?

The answer hit him after a few seconds of pondering. When Shoryu had recounted the events of Kiyoshi Uchiha's life to them, he'd mentioned that the Uchiha ran into a boy who bore the same symbol that connected Shoryu's father, the clones, Kiyoshi himself and Kamiko Honami. Shoryu had gone on to say that this particular boy told Kiyoshi that he was 'surprised he hadn't been taken yet'.

At the time they'd thought it strange and debated on it for a while. Why now was the same phrase being said to him? What was it that bound together all these groups? She had even hinted that she knew Shoryu too. There _was _a connection – there was no doubt about it. He looked for that same symbol tattooed on her arm, yet to his dismay she wore long sleeves. A million questions flooded into his mind, yet only one came out – the most obvious query that would tell him whether she was truly malevolent or a simple trickster.

"Do _you_ know something about the clone attacks?" he asked.

Suzume smiled and licked her lips in excitement. Then she replied, "You don't really expect me to answer that do you?"

Kazuya snarled in aggression, the limits of his patience finally surpassed. His sword was redrawn in a flash and the spiral pattern in his eyes seemed to grow all the more intense. "I'm taking that as a yes," he growled.

"Suit yourself," muttered the girl. She remained open and bored-looking as she cast her eyes back to the crowds, giving Kazuya the opening in which to attack. He'd get no more information from her today, that much was clear; all that remained was to defeat her and move on whilst he still had the time.

Crossing thirty feet of open ground in a matter of seconds, Kazuya bridged the gap between them before suddenly lunging into a giant swipe of his sword. He could've sworn he made a direct hit; the blade of his ancestor had carved a great arc in the ground where it swept and kicked up the dust of the arena in its curve. Yet something troubled him, as right before he made the attack Suzume had flashed her mirroring eyes back towards his rushing figure.

"_Playback One_," she said.

Kazuya had paid it no heed and continued with the attack only to find that he slashed apart nothing but thin air. Suzume had hopped back just in time to avoid the attack, but when he began to move towards her something struck him from above, something with all the force of a falling comet making impact upon his crown.

Kazuya hit the floor, his head boring into the dirt powerful enough to bury his temple in a small mound. Blood rushed to the top of his skull and quickly flowed down his face, dripping over his eyes and matting his hair of a usual pure white sheen. Just what had happened? He coughed a small cloud of dust from his mouth as he forced himself to look up, seeing through a haze of red that it was Suzume who had struck him.

What happened? She had been stood in front of him a moment ago, how then had she also hit him from above? Was it clones? Or was it some other trickery that he knew nothing of? He wondered on these as he managed to push himself back to his feet – struggling at first.

Suzume decide to elaborate when she saw the look of confusion on her wounded opponent. "Wow Kazuya, you're really ignorant about a lot of things aren't you? Do you know _anything _about that power of yours? Your family's power extends beyond anything you could ever imagine. I'm just the beginning."

The samurai paused; so it had been a technique of their dojutsu – the Jikogan – which she'd hit him with after all. He settled on ignoring her taunts and easing back into position. He centred himself, ensuring he was fully prepared when the next attack came.

"_Playback Two, Playback Three_."

A vague smokescreen shrouded the girl as from behind its silhouette she appeared to split into three different beings. The wind ushering it away proved this to be correct; three identical clones of Suzume had appeared and stood facing him with similar expressions of disapproval and boredom. He prepared himself and began to try and analyse the situation, knowing that only one of them could be the real thing.

Suddenly one broke off from the three and sped towards him, her hands each containing a fistful of magma. Immediately he noticed that her speed was on another level; this version of her must've used twenty five hand signs – the maximum speed of the Jikogan that came at the price of rapidly absorbing the user's chakra. The true Suzume used fifteen in standard combat just like Kazuya himself, so this one couldn't have been real. Then again, he wondered whether this form being 'real' or not made any difference to whether the attack itself would hit.

He decided to play it safe, stringing three seals together and blasting the high-speed Suzume with a Cryo Blast Jutsu straight out of his steadily declining chakra. Instead of freezing solid like usual though, the beam of rushing freeze simply made her dissipate and fade away, as if in static.

It was then that Kazuya noticed another Suzume had leapt straight up and loosed a collection of kunai in his direction. He blocked five as best he could with a flourish and a dodge, but another three slashed across his appendages and a final four bit into flesh to make direct hits. His left leg, both shoulders and gut had been struck, stabbing their way past his tight-fitted violet tunic and carving mouths of blood into his skin. He hissed in agony and fought past the pain, hoping to catch the flying Suzume as she descended.

"_Cryo Blast Jutsu!_" he cried again.

He hoped and prayed that he'd targeted the right one, for his aim was true and his outburst of ice quickly overwhelmed the second Suzume moments before she hit the ground. Again his mark flickered into black and white static as the final Suzume came rushing through the dispersing haze of the first, slamming a fist straight into the stomach of the samurai.

The pain became more intense than any punch Kazuya had endured before, even one from the great Kiyoshi Uchiha. It dealt so much damage that it threatened to break his concentration and disrupt the stillness of his mind, and as he looked down he quickly understood why.

Whether it was intentional or not was unclear, but Suzume Oyama had managed to land her strike right on the end of the protruding handle of the kunai knife digging into his stomach. She drove it further in with her fist, pushing deeper and deeper until her bare knuckles met the violet strip of cloth that was Kazuya's outfit. By that time the kunai might as well have been surgically implanted in his belly.

The samurai howled in pain as another punch slammed him off his feet – he hardly felt it though – he clutched his stomach and squirmed on the ground, letting his scream drown out everything else that happened down on the arena floor. It came back to him suddenly; the fact that he was too young for this occurred to him after never surfacing in his entire life.

He was thirteen years of age – a child and barely a teenager by the standards of modern men. He'd been brought up a warrior, a true man conditioned to withstand any and all forms of pain. Now he finally saw that some things couldn't be practiced or prepared for; Bishamon would've never driven a kunai knife all the way into his stomach just to toughen him up. He had to take his own initiative if he wanted to survive in future.

"Aaaand Kazuya is out of the m-"

"_DON'T!_" instantly, reflexively, Kazuya had struggled back onto his knees. His Jikogan was disabled and his chakra at an all-time low. A chubby announcer had called out through a microphone on the lower stands, and the samurai fixed the man with such a look of unfocused, wide-eyed rage that he was forced to avert his gaze. "_Don't you dare_," he finished.

Still not looking, the announcer replied, "But you're in no condition to fight. The rules say that-"

"_I don't care what your rules say!_" bellowed Kazuya, once again rekindling the man's terror. "_I _am a samurai! We fight until we _DIE!_"

With that one final shout Kazuya was back on his feet, fighting off the pain with renewed vigour and closing his eyes to try as best he could to focus. Around him all noise vanished as he lost himself to a few brief moments of strategic thought.

_Concentrate_, he told himself. _I can't win if I don't think this through. There has to be some way past her attacks. _Kazuya then thought back to the 'Playback' technique – before those came out he'd been perfectly level with her, but there was something about them that bugged him. _Their attacks are real, but when defeated they vanish like clones – but it's different, it's in that weird kind of static, like a monitor having its video feed cut off._

_If I think of this dojutsu as a kind of video recorder it almost makes sense. The most basic ability speeds me up in relation to the world around me, in other words, a fast-forward function. 'Playback'. . . Is she playing back recordings of herself? Is that what it is? If that's the case then Playbacks Two and Three would be the rushing lava attack and the jumping kunai strikes. Playback One_ _though. . . _He thought back to that moment. One of them had come from above and the other had backed off in decoy – he hadn't seen which one was real, meaning he would have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right if she tried it again.

"_Playback Two!_" she cried again, her voice sped up to him now.

_Here it comes - the lava attack_, he told himself. The moment he looked up, the high-speed dash of the Suzume playback came rushing towards him the same as last time. He rolled away from it as the space he'd last stood was doused by a concentrated puddle of magma. He whirled, turning into Suzume herself and barely ducking under a swing of her right hand.

The clenching of his abdomen made another wave of pain course through his body, as though the kunai embedded in his stomach was trying to wrench itself out of him. He gritted his teeth and formed that pain into power without a second thought. Drawing himself back up to full height, Kazuya blitzed a complex manoeuvre of slashes at the maximum speed his natural body could put out. As adrenaline coursed through him his swiftness increased, his unpredictability forcing her to quickly withdraw despite his lack of the Jikogan.

As she retreated back to a safe distance the girl activated the same technique again that her spiral eyes granted her. "_Playback Three,_" she said. Just as before a static-shivering clone of herself dove into the air and released a torrent of kunai. Flimsy shards of thin metal though were little match for a wall of ice.

"_Ice Style: Frozen Wall!_"

The projectiles either bounced off or embedded themselves in Kazuya's barrier, protecting him from all harm. Even before they struck Kazuya was already using the time to restart his strange hand signs.

"_Playback Two!_" she called again.

After a quick calculation Kazuya deduced that his wall wouldn't hold for long. With her doppelganger running towards him with a fistful of lava the dripping barricade of ice would stand little chance. His eyes flashed back into spirals and he immediately formed another pair of hand signs, holding the last one steady. He waited for the perfect moment to act whilst his chakra filled.

The samurai watched as through the murky lens of his wall an orange glow began to form at its centre as she approached. He held fast until she charged through it, magma in hand, threatening to devour him with unbearable heat. Ice scattered and steam plumed around; she was upon him already.

"_Ice Style: Substitution!_"

Suzume's lava-punch hit nothing but solid ice. In a blink Kazuya had formed a replica of himself with his Kekkei Genkai and swapped out with it, placing it in front of him and flipping away from the resulting crash before it could finish him off. He landed smoothly not too far away, though a shadow pooling at his feet told him that the real kunoichi herself had joined the fray.

He drew, turned and cried out with a lash of the back edge of his double bladed sword; the attack was quickly blocked by a chakra-swimming palm from Suzume, who retaliated by snapping a straight left hand in his direction. His head ducked back upon instinct, the jab missing his nose by a fraction of an inch before it recoiled and allowing Kazuya to strike back.

He brought up his leg; being as lithe and flexible as an acrobat allowed him to get his foot all the way up to chin height, so naturally the heel of his boot slammed into Suzume's chin. With an opening present he let out another swing of his sword.

Suzume dodged back in fright, yet for all her agility the slash still carved a nice cut into her ribs. Whilst hardly serious, it still caused pain and would refuse to stop bleeding until the end of the fight. One way or another, both knew that this end was close at hand.

She studied Kazuya, using a look of shock and genuine interest to look upon him as he laboriously breathed and clutched the wound in his stomach, keeping his ravaged flesh as closed as he could. It did little good; blood still formed a river down his leg and a puddle at his feet, and his once-stainless tunic was tainted with red across its lower stretch.

"How?" she said at last. "How can you still be standing after that? You should be dead - or at least out cold with that wound!"

Kazuya spat and restated his posture. "Are you finished? You think a wound like this can stop me? Let's end this already."

Suzume recoiled in shock, believing to her fright that he could go on like this all day. He couldn't, but that was the point of the exchange – he wanted her to think so. She swore and flashed her eyes. "_Playback One!_" she said.

Just as before, a smokescreen blotted out any view of which Suzume was real. As one version of her leapt up to the skies to come down with an aerial attack the other hopped back as a decoy. Which one was real? He could guess and pray for the best or he could attack them both with a Cryo Blast and find out, the problem remained though that he didn't have enough time to cast two jutsu before one of them attacked.

Instead Kazuya saw a third option – one that only a samurai could see. The moment it occurred to him he acted, for he knew that if he dwelled on it he would lose his nerve. Kazuya sheathed his sword, though instead of going immediately into seals he placed a hand on the wound at his gut, where the kunai had been injected right into his body. Without thinking twice Kazuya plunged his hand into the hole, uttering a wordless, stifled scream at the pain that shook him.

He seized the kunai by the handle and, in one fluid motion, ripped it out of him before flinging it up to the sky. The projectile struck the descending Suzume between the eyes, making her vanish in static, but Kazuya was already too busy forming hand signs to notice. The second Suzume closed in from the ground, running straight into the crossfire of his signature jutsu.

"_Ice Style: Cryo Blast Stream!_"

As Kazuya's jet of ice enveloped her Suzume screamed. From the feet spreading up she was consumed by it, until eventually the frozen water choked out her screams by slithering all the way up her neck and covering her mouth. Before long the girl was imprisoned, solid in that same stationary pose in a block of ice. Eventually she would thaw out, but if she survived she would not recover for a while – the match between the two was over.

And so Kazuya turned his attention to the volcanic wall of molten lava blocking his access to his partner – to his friend.

_On my way Shoryu._

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Care to see how Shoryu fared? Well awesome, because there's more!


	22. Chapter 22 The Third Stage, The Outcast

Chapter 22: The Third Stage – The Outcast

When the red-hot geyser of magma went shooting up into the air Shoryu's heart sank. He heard the hiss of steam as Kazuya's meek little water pistol hit nothing but the wall and knew that he would receive no assistance. He was on his own in this fight entirely – left to his own devices to fight the little prodigy of his old clan. The Hell's Fountain Jutsu was clearly a force to be reckoned with, something beyond either of their skill to break through.

_So much for Plan A_, he thought with a sulk. Their plan had been to splash him with Kazuya's admittedly poor water style technique so that the Raikyogan became unusable.

Then he turned to Kouta, and his heart drowned. The Zawa had equipped a set of nasty looking weapons to his fists, knuckledusters of his own creation. They stretched over the tops of his fingers and knuckles, and they were spiked like the back of a metal hedgehog with blades so sharp that grabbing them mid-combat became impossible. Shoryu looked down at his own gloves and sighed.

He'd expected Kouta to carry a metallic weapon or two like most Zawa; they used swords, staffs and clubs made of pure metal to channel through the electricity of the Raikyogan. Zakari had used a sword, Reizo used a spear, and Kouta was no exception. But Shoryu had never anticipated weapons like these before.

_So much for Plan B_.

As deflated as he was, Shoryu remembered to keep his head. Kazuya had spoken the truth earlier; he had to go at this with everything he had no matter what. With his two plans completely ruined, there was nothing left to do but pull out every trick he had and pray that something in his arsenal worked against the boy. Kouta might have been an arrogant jerk, but his confidence wasn't misplaced – Shoryu had seen him fight before, back when he was a member of the clan – he knew the boy's power all too well.

Hesitantly, Shoryu pulled out the two swords that hung from his waist and back before shuffling into the stance Kazuya had taught him. This earned him a laugh of mockery from Kouta.

"You really mean to fight me in close combat?" he jeered.

Shoryu grimaced; he was right, it was a stupid idea, but he had to start somewhere.

"Well alright then . . ." Kouta intertwined his fingers and cracked them loudly. He then held up his fists in a boxing pose and let his eyes fill them power. "_Raikyogan!_"

Sparks of lightning bounced off the spiky, bladed fists of Kouta's weapons as the boy channelled his own internal bioelectricity, amplifying it and sending it to wherever he wanted. His eyes lit up in a straight cross of blue, thunderous energy. Through them, Shoryu knew that he could see the makeup of his own bioelectric field; it told him exactly where to strike in order to overload his body and kill him in an instant. Of course, if he hit Shoryu just anywhere it would still hurt like hell.

As Shoryu expected, Kouta made the first move. The boy was eager to end him after the scolding he'd no doubt received from the clan leader Saito. Shoryu prepared himself and braced for impact.

Under the overbearing weight of haymakers and jabs Shoryu's swords felt like flimsy little sticks being battered by a sledgehammer. He thought they would break initially, but as the fight went on he began to trust in them a little more. Although he started on the defensive, Shoryu's speedy reactions and well-timed steps and parries filled him with the confidence to be a little bolder.

It wasn't long before the two matched each other rather well; Shoryu's swords would bounce in deflection from the metal fists of his opponents, and every time they clashed blue and yellow sparks fled their weapons as the Raikyogan did its thing. Shoryu would duck under an incoming swipe or block it with the offhand shortsword before lunging forward in a practiced swipe at Kouta's shoulder.

Already out of breath, the two continued their duel. As he wove under a barrage of blows and smacked a few away Shoryu used quick footwork in order to get himself around his opponent. From there he went on the advance, thrusting precise shots aimed at Kouta's abdomen. By using a constant stabbing motion he forced the young Zawa to keep moving back, toward the stream of lava that flowed forth from the earth.

Unfortunately Kouta realised Shoryu's exact plan before it could come to any sort of fruition. He noticed the hiss of the volcano sizzling behind him, and with a quick shuffle worked his way in a circle around Shoryu to put them on equal footing once again. It was here, after Kouta launched into a fearsome uppercut before following with a right straight, that the two young ninja collided with simultaneous attacks.

The crossguard of Shoryu's leading sword caught between the second and third knuckles of Kouta's armoured fist, providing a brief test of strength to see who could overpower the other. If it came down to an arm-wrestle Shoryu knew without a doubt that he'd beat his distant cousin in an instant, but since Kouta had the full use of his arms rather than pressuring a sword he kept the two on par.

Eventually both decided at the exact same time to kick the other out of the hold. The soles of their feet collided with a whiplash that rattled Shoryu's leg; they retreated briefly to a safer distance, avoiding any more unnecessary damage. As he stared down his opponent Shoryu told himself that he'd done well. He'd managed a good few minutes against Kouta in close combat.

He'd received training from the best of course though; he knew without a doubt that he had Kazuya to thank for correcting his technique and making all the subtle adjustments to his form that could change the outcome of a battle. Kouta might have possessed amplified lightning to speed up his reactions, but Shoryu had trained with a samurai.

"Better than I'd expected, I'll give you that," remarked Kouta. He studied Shoryu's stance and nodded in approval after judging it poorly not so long ago.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Shoryu replied.

"Really?" Kouta grinned and cocked up an eyebrow; he was hiding something, Shoryu knew it. "I'll admit that I didn't expect you to be able to keep up with me, but it doesn't matter much anyway. If this keeps up you won't be able to hold a sword for much longer."

Upon the Zawa's remark Shoryu noticed a sudden flaw in his guard, scolding himself for not realising sooner what their exchange had done to his attack. Whilst the fabric of his sword's handle might have protected _him_ from the Raikyogan's onslaught, it failed to do the same for the lightning rods of his two blades. Electricity cackled and gushed up and down each sword – it wasn't much, but it was enough to make them tremble, shuddering as if scared of the next attack.

They wobbled at a steady pace, loosening his grip and threatening to betray him whenever he made a crucial move to block. Shoryu found himself being glad that he'd noticed it sooner rather than later; if he'd reengaged Kouta at close range he could've easily found himself eating a fistful of those metal blades after another few dozen blocks.

_Damn it! Looks like I can't match him up close after all. Guess I'll just have to hope that he relies too heavily on the Raikyogan. Reizo told me before that a lot of them do that – I know Zakari did. If that's the case then he'll be useless if I keep my distance_.

With that thought Shoryu sheathed his weapons and threw up a single hand sign, extending his first two fingers and aligning his thumbs for the sign of the bird that his wind jutsu required. "_Air Slash Jutsu!_" From the seal, his signature arc of sharpened wind curved into existence and blasted its way towards Kouta, cutting the air and crossing the distance between them in moments.

Kouta brought up his armoured fist, still sizzling with energy, and punched it away before it could do any damage. The metal encasing his hands absorbed the impact and their density ensured they weren't cut apart by the wind, leaving only a small scratch as evidence of the jutsu's hit. Before Shoryu swore aloud though, he held it back upon noticing something else that could've given him the advantage.

The electricity bursting off the knuckledusters every few seconds had suddenly stopped. They then snapped off another spark seemingly against Kouta's will, for he studied the weapons with confusion for a few moments until the circuitry fizzed back to regularity. Of course; why hadn't he seen it sooner? Shoryu knew the elemental cycle well enough to recognise that the wind style was lightning's bane.

His jutsu had confused the Raikyogan momentarily, befuddling the current of electricity that Kouta manipulated if only for a few seconds. He couldn't hope to stop it completely – how could he? His attacks were paltry D and C-rank jutsu compared to the incredible power of the Raikyogan, but at least it was something. He silently cursed his lack of power; if he had the ability to shroud his weapons with elemental chakra like the more advanced ninja did then he'd be able to meet Kouta head on, with the Raikyogan rendered useless.

"Clever," said Kouta, finally recognising what had caused the small glitch in his system. "But you'll need more than that."

As Shoryu pondered a strategy – using the tiny window created by his jutsu to rush his opponent – Kouta fished around in his pouch of tools. The boy flung out five lengths of wire, with each rolling to a stop at different parts at the very edges of the arena before Shoryu could raise a hand to stop him. He kept hold of one end with all five and tied the loose ropes to his belt, allowing the boy to inspect his dastardly plan.

Two steps to Shoryu right and three steps to his left a perilous strip of thin wire had been placed. Another three stretched out from Kouta not so far away from him too, and those combined with the steady flow of lava rising from the earth meant that Shoryu's footing would have to be careful indeed if he wanted to survive. To show off his ploy Kouta lightly grazed one of the cables strapped to his belt, and instantly that same one glowed blue and violently flashed with lightning to Shoryu's left.

He'd turned their small arena into a circuit board; one false step and Shoryu would feel incredible voltage surge up his foot and paralyse him with all the shock of a Raikyogan's attack. The wires were those made for climbing and swinging manoeuvres too – they were made of metal – he couldn't cut them with an Air Slash as he could with a rope or a web.

After that sudden spark alarmed him and Kouta's devilish sneer disheartened him Shoryu remembered to stay focused. Kouta still couldn't attack him from this distance, so if he just stayed still and watched his step he would be alright. He told himself this, and yet at the same time realised to his horror that Kouta had begun to form hand signs.

Remembering his first fight with Kazuya, Shoryu promised not to let him finish whatever jutsu he wanted to conjure and fanned out a windmill shuriken. He hurled it with all his might on a simple trajectory and his aim was true, though Kouta swerved to avoid it. As the boy whirled around the cables attached to his belt spun with him, forcing Shoryu into a panicky game of jump-rope to avoid being tripped by two crackling wires.

By the time Shoryu stopped his skipping session Kouta's jutsu was complete. He formed his final hand sign as Shoryu prepared himself for the worst.

"_Lightning Style: Dark Cloud!_" he yelled.

For a while Shoryu saw nothing. He waited for the attack to come, watching Kouta for any sign of an attack. The boy's grin told him that _something _had happened, yet nothing came until he began to consider the implications of the technique he'd called out. _Dark Cloud. . . _He wondered to himself.

Then Shoryu saw it. He looked up to find that, hovering above him and jolting with energy, the small nimbus of a storm cloud had formed not ten feet above his head. It was a pathetic little thing – hardly the kind of jutsu suitable for the Chunin exams, but he still treated it with caution. He figured it would release a tiny bolt of electricity at any moment, so in thinking it better to be safe than sorry he formed his seal and blasted it away.

"_Air Slash Jutsu!_"

As he expected, the tiny cloud was cleaved perfectly in two by his own technique before scattering and dissipating harmlessly into nothingness, though in the opening of his move Kouta had gone and drawn six shuriken. He hurled them toward his mark without a moment's notice, and in seeing them at only the last second Shoryu dove out of the way without thought for his landing.

He landed belly-down on the salted earth of the arena, one arm by his side and the other over his head. That same arm just happened to fall over one of Kouta's cables. The Zawa touched the corresponding wire with a charge of the Raikyogan, igniting it with a flood of electricity and flowing straight into Shoryu's forearm where his exposed skin touched it.

A burning sensation coupled with the incredible seizing of his muscles was suddenly brought about by a feeling like a thousand volts taking residence inside his body. His whole being went into spasm, flailing in an instant reaction away from the wire and contracting his every muscle from toe to neck. His sight blurred and his ears rang with the high-bitched blaring of his nerves being fried, and when they died down the only noise he could hear was the triumphant laughter of Kouta over the jeering crowd.

"_Get up Shoryu!_" called a voice. It was female, that much Shoryu knew. Whether it belonged to his mother or Ayako he couldn't say, but he obeyed it without question. His hands still trembled and his knees shook, banging together occasionally with a painful knock. Fighting past the horrific sensation Shoryu managed to hold himself steady; he shook his head and analysed the situation.

_He's overconfident_, he noticed. _If he had any sense Kouta would've ended it then whilst he had the chance – he probably could've made it over here before I recovered. Still, if I get hit by the Raikyogan a second time I might be done for. _Drawing a second shuriken, Shoryu continued his pondering. _I just have to hope he doesn't find out what I'm up to_.

Shoryu threw his broad windmill shuriken as hard as he could allow, though with seemingly disastrous results. To the untrained eye he'd bungled the shot completely, as the projectile never even started on the right course. It veered off in the wrong direction and buried itself in the ground some five metres away from where Kouta stood. The Zawa prodigy relaxed his guard, shook his shoulders and laughed. As did the crowd, for his failure was embarrassing.

"Did I really shake you up that much that you can't throw a shuriken?" mocked the boy. "And here I was hoping to have a little more fun with you!"

"_Air Slash Jutsu!_"

The moment Kouta's fists batted aside the blade of wind Shoryu was rushing him with swords drawn, hacking and swinging away with far more ferocity than he had before. Kouta ducked and blocked as the energy in his bladed fists neutralised, and the two began their complex exchange once again.

This time it was made even more difficult for Shoryu; he could only move forwards and backwards. Never could he strafe sideways for fear of the wires. And if Kouta decided to spin away from an attack – which he did often – Shoryu would have to stage a jump over several of the fizzing cables to make sure his legs weren't caught in the ninja's trap. The young ninja timed everything perfectly, from the steps in his footwork to the swings of his swords.

Shoryu moved on the offensive, lashing out three times in a combination of strung-together slashes that Kazuya had taught him. He darted right past Kouta's guard and cut him across the arm in a shallow slash, but it was enough to annoy the young Zawa. As the prodigy seethed in anger and charged forward Shoryu let him lead the fight.

He went on the defensive once more; Shoryu deftly back-stepped away from any uppercut and brought up his swords whenever he needed to block a move. Kouta thundered after him, swinging seemingly at random and forgetting half of his most basic lessons. In fact in his blind frustration Shoryu again managed a slight gash to his wide open thigh.

Shoryu grinned to himself; he was winning. If he could just keep this new tactic going – working from the back foot and attacking whenever he saw a flaw – he might just steal the win. He knew that if Kouta continued to stampede like an elephant throwing wild hooks left right and centre he'd tire within minutes. _Then _Shoryu would make his move and go all out to finish him off.

That plan would've granted him the victory if his already dismal luck hadn't taken a turn for the worse. He continued to duck and weave away from Kouta's swings until the unthinkable happened – his heel met the arena's border. Shoryu cursed; he hadn't taken it into consideration, and now Kouta had him backed into a corner, wide open and just in time for his Raikyogan to reactivate.

With his fists sparking off another jolt of electricity the Zawa bore down his right-handed haymaker using all the strength that his new rage had given him. Shoryu crossed both swords before him to defend himself as the metal gloves struck his guard like a rocket, breaking it immediately. He dropped his shorter sword from the impact and his leading katana trembled from the current, acting as Kouta's cue to follow up with his left hand.

He drove it straight into Shoryu's chest, its spiky blades cracking his ribcage and digging into him like a lethal sea urchin. The boy twisted in pain when the attack struck, yet the worst was still to come. The wound was actually rather shallow – it didn't hit any vital organs, but it didn't have to.

Shoryu was electrocuted with another high-voltage blast as if he'd been touched by some god of thunder. His body went into shock, pistons firing on all his muscles to squeeze some like a persistent sponge and shake others into a fit. He blacked out as momentarily just as his ears began to bleed from that same high-pitched ringing that screamed from all directions.

His lack of consciousness was short lived however as the side of his head kissed the ground. Instantly he began to seize up again in shock as the Raikyogan's effects began to lessen with an agonising slowness that never seemed to end. No one called out this time; his hearing returned to him slowly but none ordered him to get up. It seemed even his mother and Ayako didn't see the point in prolonging this fight – it would be cruel – if he continued then he'd surely die.

And yet despite knowing this Shoryu slammed down his gloved fist; he clenched it tightly until he knew that the contraction of muscles was of his own doing. He pushed down on it steadily, forcing himself back to all fours, then to his knees and finally to his feet. Kouta had backed off to his original position and stood addressing the proctor.

"Call the fight! He's finished!" ordered the boy.

Shoryu couldn't help but smile to himself; it seemed that Kouta didn't yet have the stones to kill him. Humiliating him would have to suffice.

The referee actually looked about to do as Kouta said before he noticed Shoryu back on his feet. As the Zawa snarled in annoyance the proctor cast Shoryu a look of worry. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice projected through the giant monitor that displayed the battle. "Do you want to continue?"

Without the energy to speak Shoryu only nodded his head weakly. Chaos followed as the cheers of the audience cried out in support, deafening him and drowning out the slow bleeping of his nervous system until it vanished completely. They were on his side; for the unwavering resolve he'd displayed twice now it seemed that many of them wanted him to win.

"You don't know when to give up do you?" Kouta insisted.

Shoryu smiled again. He'd gotten to his feet automatically – without even thinking. Training with Kazuya had done that to him. It appeared that for all the improved fitness and technique there were still some detriments to training with a samurai. Surrender wasn't a word in their vocabulary, and it seemed that those values had been instilled into Shoryu through training – he'd been conditioned to take punishment without a word of complaint. Most ninja in their right mind would probably look down on such a foolish value.

Encouraging cheers quickly turned to laughter again though: Shoryu pulled out another shuriken, drew it back and lobbed it. His throw this time was so pathetic that the four-bladed star sailed only a few yards through the air before careering into the ground. The crowd roared laughing at the hilarity of such a slip-up. Kouta joined them in chuckling to himself, but what confused him was that Shoryu himself decided to join in.

He giggled – seemingly at his own failure, apparently not realising that the audience were laughing _at _him rather than _with _him. When he saw this Kouta stopped and gave a stare of confusion, just in time for Shoryu to suddenly slap his hands together and pull out three hand signs before he could react.

"_Wind Style: Tri-Shuriken Sway!_"

Kouta realised too late that Shoryu hadn't missed his mark at all – in fact the boy had never missed a single shot the entire match. He had evaded the first shuriken, though now it seemed that Shoryu had actually _let _him dodge the move. The second had been a blundered throw that he sent spinning off to the left, and the third had landed poorly just a few paces away.

Now Kouta realised that these weren't mistakes; he'd positioned the shuriken meticulously, and now that he stood at the centre of their subsection of the arena Kouta had placed himself right in the middle of the convenient triangle all three windmill shuriken had formed.

They freed themselves from the ground and began to spin faster than any throw as they magnetised towards the centre of the triangle – towards Kouta. The boy acted as quickly as his Raikyogan-enhanced reflexes would allow him, but even they weren't enough to save him completely. With both his left and right armoured hand he blocked a shuriken using the metal encasing of each.

Lacking three arms though meant that the final one hit its mark, embedding itself deep into Kouta's side in a shower of blood and delivering a wound that drove a scream from his lungs. He dropped to his knees in agony and bought up his shaking hands to the projectile as the crowd cheered for their new champion – the dark horse of the competition, Shoryu Aizawa.

With a stifled screech Kouta pulled out the blade and kept one hand closed around the wound as he turned back to his opponent as mad as a threatened bear. Shoryu too had a hand clasped over his own wound and breathed in desperate pants, seemingly at his mercy for an attack.

With hectic veins of bloodshot zigzags spreading over his lighting-bolted eyes Kouta's temper had reached its limit. He swore violently as he lifted his hand from his wound and began rapidly forming hand signs. Shoryu readied himself for the Dark Cloud Jutsu again before quickly noticing that the order and amount of seals was something much different than before – this must've been Kouta's ace in the hole. The Zawa finally attacked with a technique Shoryu could never have anticipated, even if it posed little threat to him anymore.

"_Ninja Art: House of Devil's Truth!_" cried Kouta.

"_Release!_" With a flourish of his sword Shoryu replied accordingly. The moment the genjutsu hit him the outcast had slowed down his chakra to a complete standstill and expelled it in one giant burst, instantly freeing himself of the jutsu to the unexpected horror of Kouta. The last time he'd seen that technique it had almost cost him his life.

"You've been taking lessons from Zakari," said Shoryu. It wasn't a question; he knew where that attack came from. Zakari had no doubt informed Kouta of how badly the jutsu affected Shoryu at graduation and taught him the basics. "Not bad," he went on, "that's a pretty low move, but did you really expect me to get trapped in something like that again? That's just pathetic."

A feral snarl formed across Kouta's lips as he seized all five of the metal cables and crossed them in a violent flourish, pouring all the electricity he could muster into them. The wires soared up into the air at different heights and made their way towards Shoryu on both sides; three came from his right and two from his left. They'd all lash across him and whip him each with a sudden spark of electricity.

Nimbly Shoryu leapt into the air as they approached. Seeing everything, the boy twisted and rolled in flight to make himself as flat and parallel with the ground as possible, and thanks to his impeccable timing he passed right through the tiny gap between the upper two wires. He saw one sail over his head, lightning dancing an inch from his eyes as the other weaved perilously close beneath him. He brushed it away with a simple stroke of his only remaining sword.

As the wires carried on their separate paths away from him Shoryu flipped again and landed firmly on his feet, spinning and sheathing his sword before showing a single hand sign.

_This is going nowhere_, he decided. _If this carries on we'll just keep damaging each other until one of us dies. Guess there's no choice – I'll have to go back to plan B no matter how much it costs._

With his brainstorming over, Shoryu watched as Kouta barrelled towards him like a charging ram. He waited until the last conceivable window until he acted. "_Air Slash Jutsu!_"

Kouta punched the jutsu away, uncaring that it disabled his Raikyogan, and continued on the warpath towards his foe. The two engaged with a metallic clash of orange sparks and once again began their furious exchange. With his shorter sword out of the way Shoryu was forced to fight with only his leading blade; it was a totally different style to what he was used to, but in Kouta's blind rage he managed to repel the boy for a full ten seconds until he saw the kamikaze opening.

Kouta reined back his right fist and threw a straight punch. Here Shoryu dropped his weapon. Biting down hard on his lower lip the boy brought up his hand, catching the cruel, bladed knuckleduster. Kouta's expression was one of confusion; the spines in his weapon stabbed all the way through his foe's left hand and shredded his glove to tatters, but why had it seemed so deliberate? Who would opt to endure such pain willingly?

Shoryu held back a cry and grunted a drawn-out groan as more than a dozen blades slashed open his palm. His own blood splashed across his face when the blades came out of the other side. He waited a few slow seconds for the electric blue sparks to reappear; the Raikyogan was coming out again – one more jolt would kill him.

"You've just signed over this match!" jeered Kouta.

With one swift movement Shoryu freed his bloodied left and switched hands in an instant, clamping down his right on the same armoured fist. He made sure to hold it secure, whilst still making his grip loose enough so that the blades never pierced his glove. Then Kouta acted – it was over in an instant.

The boy charged thunder and lightning from his own body into his hand and channelled it to the metal encasing his fist, hoping to bolt it through Shoryu one last time to end the battle for good. Instead his attack backfired.

Kouta suddenly began to seize up as his whole body vibrated, struck suddenly with all the electricity he'd poured into his hand. Tiny bolts danced around his head and arm, and instantly the blue cross of thunder faded from his eyes. He wrenched himself free just in time for Shoryu to pick up his sword and deliver an incredible slash, the blade cutting deep across the boy's torso and exiting in a fabulous spray of fountaining blood.

The heat from Raikyogan's blast had burned away the material of Shoryu's padded right-hand glove, revealing that underneath it was not bare skin, but another set of gloves. These were simple kitchen gloves made of rubber, a substance completely invulnerable to electricity. Kouta had attempted to pour his lightning into Shoryu, but the rubber had blocked it completely, and with nowhere else to go but backwards the bioelectric current had predictably flowed back into its master.

The crowd roared in excitement when the barely conscious Zawa prodigy fell to his back shaking and bleeding. Then they cried even louder – even got to their feet – when the same clan's outcast pounced forward and pinned his enemy to the ground with a single blade pressed up against Kouta's throat. Beneath him Kouta's chaotic fit eventually came to a close, and upon returning to the real world he found to his horror the sword at his neck.

"You had better yield or so help me I'll do it. . ." warned Shoryu, his voice low.

"Yield! _Yield!" _Kouta screamed.

"And would you look at that!" the voice of the announcer suddenly bellowed around the arena. "In a shocking turnaround, Shoryu Aizawa has managed to beat his opponent into submission!"

Shoryu took a deep breath and dropped the sword. He drew himself back up to full height and finally relaxed his shoulders, savouring the praise of his audience and sighing as if a thousand problems had just been lifted from his wounded chest. One hundred thousand people had followed these exams; they knew his story and how much rested upon this one fight – and how much of an underdog he'd been. They'd seen and heard every gory detail of the battle. And they loved him for it.

For half a minute Shoryu stood absolutely still, perfectly relaxed in absorbing the applause of his peers. He'd forgotten about the battle entirely until he realised with a start that it wasn't yet over. He noticed something which in his pessimism he regarded as a disaster, and he wasn't wrong either.

For the entire duration of the battle the rumble and the intense heat from Norio's volcanic wall had been so constant that he'd forgotten about it quickly. Now it had stopped, and he realised too late what that spelled for him.

Shoryu turned around straight to the sight of the charging ninja. With magma in his hands and resolve in his eyes Norio raised a fist and prepared to strike him; at this range and with his lack of remaining energy Shoryu knew he could do little to stop his own demise. He was exhausted and unarmed, his reactions slow after such a draining battle.

Feebly he tried to raise his arms to defend himself. He managed to get them to about his ribs before Norio was stopped in his tracks, as from his flank a blade suddenly skewered his shoulder. The Mist ninja looked down at his mangled clavicle screaming and cursing before the blade twisted brutally and retracted, sending him down to his knees and revealing the attacker.

It was Kazuya – of course it was Kazuya; no other would jump to his aid in this fight. As bad as Shoryu knew his condition was, Kazuya's was decidedly worse. A hole had been punched through his gut and three other kunai plunged a few inches into his body. These wounds were far more serious than Shoryu's – his life was in danger if he didn't get aid within the hour.

Norio yielded when the samurai pointed the blade at him again, and with that, Kazuya collapsed to the ground to instantly fall out of consciousness. Shoryu understood in a heartbeat what had happened: since Kazuya's dojutsu allowed him to fight at inhuman speeds, his battle had been over long before Shoryu's. Wounded and near-death, the samurai had waited around for as long as it took for Norio to attack.

"WINNER: CLOUD TEAM THIRTEEN!"

Again the crowd leapt to their feet and cheered louder than ever upon the proctor's announcement. Shoryu was hardly listening though. Instead he rushed over to his friend's side – splashing him with blood from his chest and hand as he did so – and shook the boy's head in his arms, at the same time yelling for the medical ninja at the sidelines to come as quick as they could.

* * *

"Kage these days, just who do they think they are? If it's a war they want it's a war they'll get!" Kira grumbled.

Only a few hours had passed after the final recess and the Kage Summit Conference had come to an end. Kikuchiyo had demanded that they come to a consensus – well they'd reached one just fine. As the terms got slowly worse the five eventually decided that if even one more clone squadron raided their respective villages then there would be all out war, no exceptions.

Peparo Raan and Teruo Shijo had almost come to fists until the good Taisho came between them. Reizo admitted that it was a battle he would be eager to see, even if he knew he'd side with the witty Kazekage. Kikuchiyo had dragged Peparo away spitting and flailing while Hiromasa subdued the Mizukage, who kicked and cursed until his savage Jonin advisors finally settled him down. It had been an eventful conference to say the least, and probably one of the most heated in the memory of most alive. It seemed there was little they could do to stop a war now. Reizo only wondered just how they could stop it and dreaded the day that it began.

Reizo and Hatori walked gloomily after their leader as the Kage muttered to himself in a far worse mood than he'd been in on the way over. Soon they'd passed the Three Wolves and ended up on the rebuilt, ancient stone bridge that had been damaged sometime before the fourth war. Reizo glanced around at the new environment; the ice had been too slippery and the passage too narrow for him to make a confrontation before, but this place seemed ideal.

As he walked the Raikage scribbled down the contents of the meeting on a scroll. He then summoned a hawk, attached his message to the bird and let it fly into the wind, presumably to relay it to the elder council back at the Village Hidden in the Clouds.

"Someone is deceiving all of us I tell you! We're being played like fools, all for the amusement of some master puppeteer," he said. Unfortunately Reizo didn't believe a word – he'd heard enough.

"Someone . . ." he said. The Jonin stopped suddenly in his tracks at the foot of the bridge, causing Kira to turn back to him in confusion. "You mean someone like you?" Reizo suddenly drew his spear, the small extendable baton with its spiked tip, and held it up before brandishing it out to its full length. He stood poised and ready for battle as the Raikage met his deadly stare with only a perplexed expression.

"Reizo? What's come over you?" he asked, looking genuinely frightened. "This isn't like you."

Reizo held his glare. "Don't play dumb any longer. _You're _the Kage behind it all. I didn't want to believe it, but Hatori double checked. You should've reconsidered bringing a sensory ninja along for the conference."

"What madness is this? Come to your senses Reizo! Hatori! You too!"

Hatori wavered and turned his gaze away when the harsh, accusing stare of Kira Asakura looked at him with such disappointment. Despite his lack of resolve though, the ninja stayed put next to Reizo, refusing to join the side of his traitorous Kage. He said nothing and looked to the floor in shame.

"I understand your confusion, and it's only right that you should suspect me!" protested the Raikage. "You've done well Hatori – I hold nothing against you, but there's a perfectly reasonable expl-"

"_Daimyo Raikyogan!_" cried Reizo. He cared nothing for whatever convoluted excuse Kira could have for betraying his own nation. Instead he lit up the supercharged thunder in his eyes and sent waves of spluttering lightning down his drawn spear.

The Raikage held his look of anxious, helpless confusion for a few more moments until his expression changed completely, as though he'd been replaced by another being. Where once the terrified face of a feeble old man was formed, a malicious, evil sneer now spread across his wrinkles. His pupils instantly dilated into beady little eyes as he dropped into a daring combat stance.

"Oh well," he said, his voice shifting into a noticeably different accent. "Guess there's no sense hiding it now."

Reizo fought the urge to recoil at the sudden change the Raikage underwent. His stance, his expression and his entire demeanour seemed to have relaxed into its natural state of evil; it was as if the entire time he'd been living Kira had been putting on a show to conceal his true nature.

"Yes. It was I who sent the clones to attack their respective villages – I who instigated this war – I who pulled the wool over the eyes of the entire village!" he said in excitement, boastfully proclaiming his deeds in an attempt to somehow make the two ninja appreciate his elaborate plan. "But that doesn't matter anymore. You two will be dead before you can tell any about this, and what's more, there's _nothing _you can do to stop this war!"

"What did you say?" Reizo's tone faltered, his stomach churning in sickness.

"That's right. Remember that bird I just sent off? Inside that scroll are the orders for each of the five nations to be struck by another assault of the clones!" screamed the Kage. With his real feelings exposed Kira seemed to be getting some sick thrill from knowing the deaths of countless ninja were on his hands. It disgusted the two Jonin.

At this Reizo twisted his mouth into a smile. "Well then I guess it's a good thing we've caught you red handed. We might not be able to stop a war, but at least our village will rest safely in the knowledge that we caught the bastard responsible. You won't be able to play Kage any longer."

"_What?_"

From the deep pockets of his flak jacket Hatori suddenly produced a handheld tape recording device. From the reels turning within, Kira could see that it had absorbed their entire conversation and was ready to play back the incriminating evidence at any time. The Raikage smiled a dastardly grin and flashed his eyes in excitement.

"_You'll never deliver that recorder in one piece!_" he said.

"Hatori! RUN!" ordered Reizo.

At the command of his junior Hatori suddenly burst into a sprint across the wooden bridge. Kira chased after him, as spry as a young man now that his hunched over, slow moving posture had been proved to be just an act. As quick as the Raikage was, Reizo was faster. He intercepted the old man using a quick burst of his electrical prowess and blocked a water-wreathed fist with the shaft of his spear.

Reizo's intervention allowed Hatori to keep running along the bridge. He quickly reached the end without ever looking back – Reizo doubted that he would until he reached the village. He was fine with this though; this wasn't a case of abandoning comrades. Both were prepared to die for the Cloud here today, and if he returned to help Reizo it would be an insult to the sacrifice he was prepared to make.

"Looks like I've got my hands full here!" Kira exclaimed. "I'll just have to hunt him down once I'm finished killing you!"

Reizo brought up a kick to break the hold as the Raikage smacked it away with a punch. The clash sent both warriors skidding back ten paces in opposite directions across the bridge, but where Kira remained untouched, Reizo on the other hand had been damaged more than he knew. The sizzling of a slow fuse diverted his attention back to his foot.

He cursed; when Kira struck him he'd planted a paper bomb on the bottom of his shoe. It stuck to his sole like a pesky piece of toilet paper until it detonated, hurling him into the air already with burns covering his leg.

He landed and skidded, and then the ground beneath him disappeared. He found himself looking down over a fifty foot drop and flailing madly to grab onto something. His hands quickly found the edge of the bridge he'd fallen off and he clung to it for dear life as the elderly Kage marched over to it. He tried to swing himself back onto the bridge, but Kira stamped on his arm to prevent him from doing so.

Reizo looked up into the face of his old leader, twisted and leering over him with every intention of destroying him. The obvious question came before he could stop himself from asking it.

"Why?" he said. "Why do this? Why betray your country? Why start a war?"

Kira threw back his head and laughed; the pointed hat of the Raikage clattered to the ground as he did so. "_Why?_ Oh come now Reizo, don't speak to me as if I'm your Kage. Kira Asakura has been gone a long time. I doubt you were even a teenager when the _real _Kira disappeared."

Reizo narrowed his eyes in confusion. He couldn't have been an impostor using the transformation jutsu – someone would've noticed long ago if his chakra flow was off and his daily patterns irregular. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What did you do with Kira Asakura?"

The Raikage ignored his question and continued boasting. "Oh don't get me wrong – this _is _Kira's body. I'm simply borrowing it, like I'm doing so many others. Didn't you think it was strange how all these years the Raikage never stepped down? How he could continue to still be alive and even lead a country when over a hundred years old? How his body can now move with the agility of his prime at this age? _I'm _the one sustaining him."

"_Genjutsu_," guessed Reizo. Powerful Genjutsu at that; the control it must take to hold sway over a being as powerful as a Kage must've been astronomical. It all fell into place – what he'd said was all true, there was no other explanation for Kira's age and apparent health. Then he recalled something else the impostor said – 'like so many others'.

"If you're this powerful with Genjutsu . . ." Reizo went on, taking into account the Kage's previous words and his evil scheme. "Then you must be the one controlling the clones - they're under Genjutsu too."

"Oh! Very good!" Kira began to clap sarcastically.

Reizo growled, "Are you the one who created them too?"

"Oh no, not me. The one who made them, he's much older and wiser than I am."

_ Damn it_, Reizo clenched his teeth. _So even if we ever find this guy in the flesh there's another, even more powerful foe_.

"But enough talk – I know you're just stalling for time here to let little Hatori escape. Show me what you can really do, and let's see if it matches the full power of the Tenth Raikage!"

* * *

A full ten minutes elapsed as the judges made their respective decisions on who to pass and who to fail. During that time Shoryu allowed the medical ninja to inspect his wounds as he stood at the centre of the arena, shaking both from the adrenaline of the fight and the two blasts of the Raikyogan he'd suffered. As he began to get woozy the ninja finished bandaging his chest and got started on stitching up his wounded hand – that hurt most of all.

Nearby, Kouta's injuries were also being tended to, though Kazuya and Norio's were so severe that they had to be taken inside immediately. Suzume meanwhile remained frozen solid in a block of ice – none risked moving her. Whether she was dead or not was impossible to determine, but since the pillar had just begun to drip water he knew they'd find out soon enough.

Around him the crowd had quieted down from its previous frenzy; they seemed as eager as he was to receive the results of the battle, even if Shoryu's expectations were decidedly lower than their own. He'd done everything right and beaten an opponent that would normally outmatch him, though he wondered whether that even mattered with Saito Yukizawa as the main judge.

After what felt like an eternity Saito emerged. Up high on that raised platform he almost eclipsed the sun. Shoryu put up his free hand to shield himself from the light as he looked directly up, and even then he thought he saw a contented grin on his distant uncle's face. He seized the microphone he'd used to announce the match and began to work the crowd just as before, his voice booming around the entire coliseum.

"Sorry to keep you waiting folks, but this proved to be one of the hardest battles to judge! The results are in now, if you'd care to hear the verdict."

Cries from the audience confirmed that they did. Shoryu held his breath and remained perfectly still.

"First up is Mixed Squad One," continued the clan leader. "Kouta Renazawa, for failing to defeat a weaker opponent and making wasteful use of his abilities, _fails _the final stage."

Kouta stirred uncomfortably on the ground as the people clapped as a show of their condolences. Shoryu laughed to himself – in all the generations that had passed, every Zawa had cleared the Chunin exams on their first attempt. Saito's wrath at Kouta's failure to defeat Shoryu must've been so great that he decided to break that rule and fail him.

"Next, Norio Oyama. Despite his show of great skill and mastery of a Kekkei Genkai, for taking too little part in the battle he too _fails _the final stage."

More claps followed, but Norio was in the infirmary and thus not around to appreciate them.

"Suzume Oyama, for her great endurance and show of tact, _passes_ the final round and advances to the level of Chunin!"

Shoryu's eyes wandered over to the solid block of ice at the centre of the arena. Cheers this time rang out for her and Shoryu couldn't help but clap along in respect, not knowing what had transpired beyond the wall of lava. To cause Kazuya such injuries meant she must've been a fearsome opponent indeed, even in spite of his attitude towards her as a person. Saito's announcement also confirmed that she was alive; with the Raikyogan he could see the current of bioelectricity still flowing within the ice.

"And now for Cloud Squad Thirteen!" he went on.

Shoryu steeled himself – this was the moment he'd been waiting for.

"For his resourcefulness and tenacity, Kazuya Takashi _passes _the final round and also advances to the rank of Chunin!"

Shoryu smiled widely (particularly at the word 'resourcefulness') and cheered along with the crowd, adding in a loud whistle at hearing the results Kazuya had earned. He was happy for his friend; as long as Kazuya passed they wouldn't be separated forever, and his village could receive the funds necessary to prosper again.

"Shoryu Aizawa. . ."

The boy's breath escaped him – this was it. He looked up past the glare of the sun and locked eyes with Saito Yukizawa, though to his dismay the cheerful snigger the clan leader exhibited gave him a bad feeling about the result.

"Despite displaying heart and intuition, took too long to defeat his opponent, sustained too much damage during the battle and made reckless decisions that compromised his own safety. For this, he too _fails _the third round."

Shoryu nodded bitterly, pretending to humbly accept the Saito's decision. He actually suspected that Saito had bribed the other judges to side with him - it seemed the only explanation for such a lack of fairness. _This is it_, he thought to himself, inspecting the ravaged scars of his left hand. _All this for nothing. Things won't ever change as long as people like him are around. Can't believe I actually allowed myself to think he'd pass me – Reizo isn't here this time either, and I'm pretty sure no one else is willing to stick their neck out for me like that._

The outcast continued to nod, expecting the congratulatory claps from the audience that his opponents had gotten for competing. Instead he heard nothing; only a prolonged silence came over the arena, followed closely by perplexed muttering amongst the common people.

Then someone shouted.

"_BOO!_"

"_Get off the stage, what'cha playing at?"_

"_Give him the pass you stickler!_"

An apple sailed from the crowd up to the elevated platform upon which Saito stood. It must've been thrown by an elite ninja, because it soared fifty feet through the air before smacking his face and perfectly bursting upon his forehead. The crowd was united in jeering protest; even they could see clearly the unfairness of this decision. Shoryu was right; Reizo wasn't around to have his back now, but when his victory had been clearly visible to so many people he didn't need him.

"_He was the last man standing! Are you blind?_"

"_Nice judging asshole!_"

"SILENCE!" Saito roared, although his command had little effect.

If Saito had made one mistake then it was flaunting Shoryu's past. He'd updated the title screen to show that he was an outcast in hoping to make everyone see how weak he was. What he'd actually done was put more people on his side by creating an underdog, whilst at the same time exposing his own prejudice. That – coupled with the entertaining show that Shoryu had put on – turned the masses against the clan leader. As more fruits and vegetables met the platform people began to point out his bias.

"_You just cheated him out of a pass because you don't like him!_"

"_You're discriminating against him!_"

"_I don't have a Kekkei Genkai! Wanna fail me?"_

Before long the booing and the bombardment of food forced Saito back indoors. Even whilst he escaped the attack the crowd still called out insults – they knew he could hear them. Shoryu's heart began to flutter; all these people, strangers and fellow ninja alike, had stuck up for him. If this continued he knew a full-scale riot would be at hand with the commoners demanding penance for this sham.

Saito knew this, so after a minute or so he re-emerged and took another hold of the microphone, still dodging the wave of thrown food. He looked enraged and panicked; terrified in the knowledge that one hundred thousand people would get up and leave such an event. He looked down upon Shoryu this time with such hatred that the boy suspected he might just activate the Raikyogan and dive down to attack him.

"The panel has reconsidered its decision!" he announced, though the tirade never stopped until he gave the order they required.

"We have decided instead to give Shoryu Aizawa a _pass_ for the final stage, granting him the rank of Chunin."

The crowd screamed in collective excitement as Shoryu began to go numb. He'd done it – he'd passed, and it was all thanks to the insistence of all those people he didn't know. He saw Ayako in the crowd smiling and clapping along. A few seats along sat his mother doing the same. With his mind so overwhelmed and his body so exhausted, Shoryu passed out suddenly into a deep sleep, tumbling into gratified bliss.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hiatus? What's a hiatus? I'm afraid I don't register that word :P Just taken a little time off is all, and yes this wasn't out for the New Year but the sheer unexpected length of this third stage made that impossible.

So a lot happened in these chapters as I'm sure you know. Suzume turned out to be Kazuya's _cousin_, who also had his Dojutsu, who then told him that his father is dead and then went on to implicate Shoryu in his murder (which makes little sense because he would've been five years old at the time). Kazuya's also got a grandfather who created the Jikogan – what's up with that?

Reizo on the other hand discovered that their own personal Raikage has – for over a decade in fact – been possessed by a master of Genjutsu, the same one that controls the clones. They're also having their fight on the same bridge that they passed on the way - the one where Naruto and the rest of Team Seven had their little reunion.

Aaand Shoryu had the showdown of his life before his ridiculous fail was overturned by screaming fans. Yeah I know that might've been a little corny but there was no way he would've passed otherwise, and it's probably good for him to witness something like that since he's usually super cynical.

Also the first S-Rank Jutsu got unveiled today (along with about 5 other jutsu) so I had to update the chart. Big shock: it's the Jikogan – if Kazuya's fight didn't make it clear then there's more to it than what we've seen already.

Next chapter is a big finale - the exam's aftermath and Reizo's fight with the Raikage. Are you as excited as I am? :D


	23. Chapter 23 End of an Era

Chapter 23: End of an Era

Shoryu awoke. After being blanketed in darkness for so long the white light of the room blinded him momentarily as his eyes adjusted to the new environment. He was in a hospital; the walls, ceiling and floor were a shade of pearl that he initially suspected might have been the afterlife. He lay in a springy, comfortable bed held up by four metal stilts, still in the same clothes he'd donned previously.

Bleached walls aside, the room was largely bare. A door could be found in the corner, and beside it a single green chair populated a sleeping girl. Ayako slept peacefully, her head tilted to one side with her hand supporting her chin; she'd probably been sat there waiting for hours, but how many? Shoryu sighed and let his head sink further into his pillow.

"I didn't really pass did I?" he asked aloud. "It was a dream wasn't it?"

"No."

The voice sounded from his right, attracting his attention to another feature of the room he'd overlooked. It wasn't Ayako who'd spoken – she failed to wake after Shoryu's call – the voice was male. Beside him Kazuya rested in another bed, staring up at the ceiling with that strange expressionless look of his. Even Shoryu couldn't tell what went through the mind of the samurai, though he liked to think it was happiness.

"Damn it," said Shoryu, "you took way more damage than me and you're _still _the first one up. How long have you been awake?"

"Just a few minutes, how's your hand?"

Pain was a subjective experience as Shoryu knew. He'd forgotten all about the wound he'd sustained and felt nothing from it since his rise, but the moment Kazuya mentioned it he remembered; it began to throb in agony almost immediately. He withdrew his hand from the sheets to see that it was bandaged up, and then quickly unravelled it to inspect the damage.

Whoever had tended to his hand was talented, that was for sure. He retained full mobility of it and all the nerve-ends and tendons had been totally repaired. Practically it was the same as ever, but aesthetically it was a mess.

Jagged, thin scars glowing red with recent closure worked their way across his left palm in a cross-hatching pattern like intersecting railroads. It looked like a stuffed animal that had been stitched up, patchwork and sewed off-colour to the rest of his hand. He knew it would look better in time, but he'd still carry it for the rest of his life. Funnily enough though, he didn't seem to mind too much.

"Well, put it this way," he answered at last. "I'm not going to any palm readers any time soon. Hey Ayako!"

The girl shuddered awake in her seat, quickly correcting her sloppy posture and looking to attention.

"What's my future?" Shoryu grinned and displayed the wounded mess of his left hand.

Ayako smiled vaguely and shook off the drowsiness. "That was lame. Why can't you take anything seriously? I'd be mortified if I had to live with that."

"It's not my style." Shoryu looked back to his hand and appeared taken aback, offended by the girl's remark. "And I thought that was rather clever!"

"You've had better," she said. Ayako then got to her feet and limped over to the space between the two beds, leaning up against the wall. They'd all taken wounds from these Chunin Exams – serious ones whose scars would serve as a constant reminder to their conquest here. Kazuya's stretched across his gut like an appendectomy mark, and it churned uncomfortably when he finally decided to get up.

"I'm checking out," Shoryu announced. He threw back the sheets and slid out of bed as Ayako made a feeble grab for him that he deftly evaded.

"No! You're supposed to stay in the hospital for at least another day!" she protested.

Kazuya followed; he got to his feet with a stifled groan of effort and drew himself back up to full height, retrieving his sword from his bedside. "Me too."

"Not you too! _You're _meant to be here for another week!"

Shoryu slid into his jacket and re-buckled his own swords to his belt and back. With a knowing look to Kazuya the two set off at a quickened pace towards and out of the door, leaving their teammate furiously hopping after them at speeds that aggravated her leg.

"You're such idiots!" she cursed as she hobbled along behind.

Shoryu chuckled and slowed down for her. "Sitting still for that long doesn't suit me – we should be out celebrating our victory, right Kazuya?"

"Right."

"Which reminds me!" The boy suddenly stopped in his tracks as an evil smirk spread across his lips. He grinned mockingly at Kazuya, as if he knew some kind of huge secret that could compromise his very existence. Ayako looked between the two of them with a look of confusion until Shoryu decided to continue.

"When you beat Norio – you attacked him from behind! Now that's not very samurai of you is it?"

Ayako remembered with a start and quickly joined Shoryu in giggling quietly to herself. He was right, Kazuya had totally forsaken his personal code; just as Shoryu predicted he was adhering more and more to the ways of the ninja with every day he spent in their company. In truth he didn't regret it – Norio would've cut Shoryu down for sure if he hadn't acted, but it still bothered him.

The samurai put a palm to his head and exhaled wearily. "I hoped you'd forgotten about that," he confessed.

"Attacking an opponent's blind spot is a crucial part of being a shinobi!" announced Shoryu. He slapped his partner on the back in encouragement.

"Shut it Shoryu," Kazuya warned, his patience running thin. His voice was low and his were fists clenched, like a growling dog who didn't want to be disturbed.

Shoryu gulped and gave a nervous laugh. "Okay."

* * *

With fire in his hands the Tenth Raikage blasted a surge of heat down towards his former subordinate, as he still dangled with one hand from the reconstructed bridge where they'd began their duel. Before the tongues of flame could reach their mark Reizo forced himself back into action. The Jonin swung himself underneath the bridge in a single push and flipped gracefully so that the soles of his feet met the underside.

He stood upside down; at the lip of the bridge a great blast of fire licked at the air, and below him a great pool of water remained to catch him. Was it deep enough though? If he fell from this height would he die? He didn't want to think about it; after all it would be a last resort, for if he got his body wet then his Daimyo Raikyogan – the most effective weapon in his arsenal – would cease to work.

Reizo cracked his fingers before intertwining them for a few simple hand signs. It was a low ranking jutsu – hardly the kind suitable for fighting a Kage, but at least it would buy him some time until he could think of a better approach. He finished his array and quickly slapped his hands to the ground (or ceiling, depending on perspective) at his feet.

"_Earth Style: Stone Impact Jutsu!_"

He heard the flooring above him crack and shudder as the earth he manipulated formed great fists that rose in sweeping uppercuts on the bridge above. He created five in total, and he knew not whether any of them hit their target. He'd found himself playing reverse whack-a-mole, blind to Kira's actions. He waited in deathly silence for a few tense moments before his answer came. Unfortunately it was hardly one he'd hoped for.

A whirlpool began to form at the body of water below him, swirling to life with a disgusting sucking noise life a drain pipe being unclogged. It grew in size and began to stir even the wind with its ever-building intensity; before long the aquatic cyclone raged with a ten metre diameter. Reizo still clung to the belly of the bridge as his jet black ponytail began to move with the currents of the powerful tide before his very eyes.

He'd heard of this technique before, yet none had seen it for at least thirty years. Along with one other, it had been the jutsu Kira used to secure his position as the Tenth Raikage after the people had witnessed its awesome power. Since he never used it anymore people figured he could no longer pull it off, that his muscles and chakra had degenerated to the point where he could no longer hold something like it together. They might've been right too – if the bastard possessing him wasn't allowing the old Raikage to surpass his physical limits.

Once fully formed the whirlpool gave out a great roar; it twisted as it did so and warped at its nebula to give it the impression of a crying mouth howling in pain. At least, that was the image Reizo saw before the pool condensed itself into a single shape, one that writhed and slithered out of the central wormhole and shrieked itself into existence.

"_Water Style: Serpent Tsunami Aquas!_"

Reizo didn't know what made the jutsu create that awful sound, and he wasn't sure he even _wanted_ to know the science behind it. All the young Jonin knew was that out of the sinkhole of Kira's whirlpool a giant snake emerged. With a body comprised entirely of water the serpent was easily as thick as the bridge itself, and its terrifying, fifty-metre length meant that it could stretch itself right up there.

It lunged for Reizo, solidified fangs dripping and hollowed-out eyes spinning like tiny whirlpools of their own as its rapid movement left gallons upon gallons of water behind it. Cursing, Reizo fell into the first sequence of hand signs that came to mind. Never mind getting wet, if he was hit dead-on by that thing he'd die almost instantly. The Jonin took under a second to prepare his jutsu; again he struck the ground with a fist.

"_Earth Style: Quake Jutsu!_"

Immediately the bridge at his feet collapsed. Cracks spread across the underside like thunder before it gave way to giant chunks of wayward rocks and supporting columns that tumbled down toward the whirlpool. The jutsu was so sudden that a few layers of concrete suddenly came between the serpent's lunge and Reizo's fall. It snapped impatiently at the falling debris before rearing back and catching its master. _There_ was the opportunity Reizo needed.

When snake moved to save Kira, the Jonin worked his way into another sequence of hand signs, plummeting towards the water. When he came within ten feet Reizo slapped his hands together in one final motion of focused chakra.

"_Earth Style:_" he began again. "_Rock Dome Jutsu!_"

Months ago he'd used the same technique in the hopes of saving the three youngsters of Squad Thirteen; now he used it to save his own skin. Falling wreckage and fragments of plaster from the broken bridge magnetised to Reizo, forming a neat sphere around him and acting as a barrier to soften his fall, if only a little.

As Reizo's encasing ball hit the water he was slammed hard into the side of his jutsu, like a caged guinea pig flung across a room. For a moment he suspected he'd broken his shoulder, but there was little time to inspect his own health now. As painful as his impact had been it saved him from the deactivation of his Raikyogan; the ball was air-tight and prevented any of the outside water from getting in, meaning he could sustain his dojutsu a little longer.

As much as he had faith in his own jutsu though, Reizo couldn't help but feel his Rock Dome wouldn't survive long against the Tsunami Aquas. Dread went through his mind as his suspicions were confirmed by another snap of the basilisk's jaws hurtling his cosy little ball out of the river. He heard the exterior crack and noticed a spring of water leak into the hull, yet he held his ground until the moment arrived.

Once he re-entered the water the snake struck again. This time half of his sphere caved in with the force and they flew higher into the sky once again. With a burst of vigour Reizo disengaged the jutsu, allowing him to fall from his tremendous height and land to the water right as the snake finished off the jutsu from which he'd just escaped.

Using the water-walking technique Reizo ensured that the rest of his body remained dry – only the soles of his shoes would get wet if he kept out of the creature's way. Looking at it now though, the Jonin's previous thoughts of optimism turned to bleak hopelessness. The water snake was even more gigantic than he'd originally thought; from up above he'd simply looked down on it, but now that he was on a level playing field the mobile upstream of water positively towered over him, casting a shadow across the ruin of the broken bridge.

Standing on its head with his arms tightly crossed was Kira. Even from so low down Reizo could see the look of content on the face of the man he'd once considered Kage – he was enjoying this, or rather the man possessing him was. Reizo suspected that Kira's captor had just recently gotten into using these techniques; for so many years he'd kept up the illusion that the Raikage was a feeble old man, and so had experienced little or no opportunity to use his S-Ranked Jutsu.

Reizo wondered whether he could use that knowledge against him. Kira's jutsu weren't handed down to him or learned from any master, he'd created them. Supposedly his two most powerful techniques were the embodiment of his own chakra manifested into giant titans – this certainly constituted one of them. He looked around to see if anything else could be useful. On one side the body of the crumbled bridge looked as if it had seen better days, and on the other a sheer cliff led back up to ground level – aside from that the narrow river led on underneath the fallen bridge for as far as he could see.

"Come on Reizo!" the man shouted down. "You're not making this nearly as fun as you could be!"

Reizo snarled in annoyance as the great viper made another lunge for him. He darted out of the way before the torrent could envelop him, and soon the Jonin found himself running at his fastest speeds across the water. Waves splashed behind him and by his sides, flaying about with a crash that rumbled the surface every time the Tsunami Aquas made a snap at his heels.

When the serpent acted Reizo threw himself forwards or darted out of the way every time. Being too busy to look behind meant that he had to time his jumps in accordance with nothing more than his instinct. He zipped across the surface in a blur as the Daimyo Raikyogan got to work on enhancing his already-impressive speed. Even as he got faster and faster though, the snake snapped closer and closer to his heels with every lunge of its body. As long as he remained on the surface of the water there was no chance of Reizo outrunning it, for the jutsu was water itself.

"You can't run forever Reizo!"

As much as he hated to admit it Reizo knew that his foe was right. He'd reach a dead-end eventually and find himself face to face against that thing with nowhere to run, so he decided to do something with a risk level slightly out of his comfort zone. The ninja veered off to one side, narrowly missing the tide of the snake's next attack and flying towards the cliff. With a great breath he began to scale it, sending concentrated volumes of chakra to the soles of his feet and running vertically up the wall.

He'd gotten only a few steps up however when Tsunami Aquas struck again. It reared its ugly head and threw itself against the cliff face, bursting rocks from the surface with an aquatic explosion as Reizo dashed to safety. He shifted ten steps across the wall in a single bound, though the explosion still sent razor-sharp pebbles to scratch away at his exposed cheek and right arm.

Ignoring it, the Jonin pressed upwards. He made another five dodges away from the creature, escaping only by the skin of his teeth and never without at least five new scrapes to contrast against the glowing blue marks upon his forearms and palms. After what felt like an age he reached the top; he rolled over the crumbling lip of the cliff and leapt to safety when the next attack struck by his feet.

Now that he was back on flat ground and level with the snake-riding Kage, Reizo fell back into stance and allowed himself a moment to assess the situation. Kira backed off his jutsu momentarily – he hovered atop the serpent wearing a smug grin, laughing to himself all the while.

"You're holding out on me Reizo!" he deduced. "You must be – I heard you were far stronger than this!"

Reizo paused; he _hadn't _been holding back at all, he simply hadn't had time to execute his most powerful attacks when being constantly pressured like this. He'd only ever had time to run, but now was his chance to strike. He held out his left arm, crackling with electricity, before flinging a single spear of concentrated lightning towards his opponent.

"_Lightning Javelin!_"

He wasn't aiming for the Kage himself though – with Kira's distance he would've required the aim of someone more adept than even Shoryu to land a jutsu from that far. No, instead he aimed for the monolithic snake comprised entirely of water. With Kira standing atop it, he planned for the water to absorb his thunder and spread it along its entirety, shocking its master from the feet upwards.

For a moment he suspected it worked too. The electricity spread throughout the snake's entirety; it even looked in pain for a moment as it arched back, glowing with a darker shade of Reizo's bio-electric blue before the energy dissipated. Throughout it all though, Kira hadn't moved a muscle – he never even flinched. Reizo cursed; he must've had rubber soles or some chakra barrier by his feet to compensate for the snake's obvious weakness.

"You didn't seriously expect that to work did you?" mocked Kira.

"Worth a try," Reizo snapped.

"Apparently not."

"Come on, don't keep me in suspense." Reizo sheathed his weapon and formed the tiger sign – the starting seal for one of his most powerful techniques. "You're not going all out on me either. Everyone knows the Tsunami Aquas is only half of your real power. Why don't you do the courtesy of showing the rest to me? I'm dead anyway, right?"

The Raikage gave another great laugh that immediately brought back Reizo's feeling of unease. That gleam in his eye; the wickedness of his smile; they were somewhere they did not belong, plastered on the face of a weak yet harmless old man that he'd known since childhood. Reizo scolded his own ignorance. All this time he'd been in their midst and he never suspected him to be anything other than an elder with a chip on his shoulder. He'd deceived everyone – the Jonin, his council and his entire village.

After Kira had finished his sinister round of laughter he shrugged his shoulders, deciding to comply with the man's last request. He began forming hand signs at speeds even Reizo couldn't keep up with, and when fifty had been made he held the last one securely in place, focusing his chakra.

"Very well then. I shall grant your final wish, Reizo Kuroda. I'd pay close attention though – this will all be over in a few seconds."

Reizo smiled – at least he'd finally gotten his new name right. He too settled on his final hand sign, silently wondering whether it would be enough. "Bring it on."

"_Fire Style: Phoenix Maelstrom Pyrus!_" roared the Kage.

Reizo reciprocated. "_Fire Style: White Blaze Ultima!_"

Two attacks streaked into existence, and whilst both were gigantic in size and burning at volcanic temperatures, one was significantly larger and hotter.

Kira Asakura's flame phoenix the Maelstrom Pyrus was the second half of the pair of jutsu that had given him the rank of Kage. Whilst not quite as large as the Tsunami Aquas it was equally, if not _more_ formidable than the serpent. Comprised entirely of fire it emitted a black, ashen smoke that plumed to the skies with every beat of its scorching wings. The creature quite literally threw a shadow over the cliff; it must've been easily forty metres in height and double that for its wingspan.

If nothing else Kira's prized pair of jutsu were forces to be reckoned with, if unnatural to say the least. The physical embodiment of his chakra protected him with fiery rage from above and watery despair from below. There were no safe entrances into his guard, and for as much as the beings protected him they did so much more for the Kage in terms of attack. The phoenix screeched a sharp, clear ringing as it opened up its wings and screamed a mouthful of crimson flame from its maw.

Reizo's jutsu rocketed away, heat from a furnace at least three times more potent than his usual 'White Blaze' attack. Like a cannon the tongues of purest white flame rose up in a unified blast, colliding with the breath of the Maelstrom Pyrus with a heat so intense that the cliff blackened instantly.

* * *

Squad Thirteen – or rather, the three ninja who comprised what _used _to be Squad Thirteen, quickly met up with the old Squad Five, and the six of them headed down to join the festivities and grab lunch. Following Shoryu and Kazuya's battle the previous day Yuudai had finally woken on the next morning. He looked whiter than usual, his wounds were still bandaged and his walk was almost as slow as the crippled Ayako's, yet he still tried his best to maintain his usual chirpy personality.

Wherever he went Shoryu couldn't help but notice the stares he got from people he'd never seen before in his life. Some boys at least five years older than him had patted him on the back and cheered as he passed, and an elderly couple had gave him some strange kind of respectable salute – at least Shoryu hoped it was respectable.

Today there was a match scheduled between two rival two-man teams from the Land of Earth, though Shoryu and the others agreed that they really didn't care for seeing it. He couldn't speak for the others, but Shoryu himself knew that he'd seen far too much high-tension action for his liking this fortnight. He needed a week or even just a few days away from any kind of strenuous activity and some time to absorb the events that had occurred. He still wandered around in a dream state, as expecting to wake up at any moment.

So the six of them found themselves a quiet spot in the competitors' canteen and grabbed dinner right as the match outside began, ensuring that everyone else would be out in the stands. With the place to themselves they lost themselves in conversation for at least an hour; Jinga firstly revealed that he himself had been one of the medical staff on board during Shoryu and Kazuya's respective treatments.

Yuudai recounted the crazy events of the last few days as he mocked their ridiculous nature, impersonated many proctors and gave constant shout-outs to Hoshi, Shoryu and Kazuya for their victory. Shoryu revelled in the praise and clinked glasses, cheering with the boy whenever this happened; Hoshi and Kazuya meanwhile simply sat back in modesty, though on each of them the workings of a vague smile could be seen.

When the samurai excused himself for second helpings Shoryu followed. He'd been curious for a while now about one thing in particular, but due to the subject's sensitive nature he'd been unable to ask with Squad Five still around. He approached the buffet and set down his food.

"So, about Suzume," he began. Shoryu helped himself to another slop of mashed potatoes as he went on, "What exactly did you find out?"

Kazuya didn't reply right away. Instead he finished loading up his plate and pushed it to one side; it was a rather large topic, so he'd need Shoryu's full attention if he was to understand it all. "She's my cousin," he revealed.

Shoryu's shock was such that he almost dropped his plate. "Your cousin? Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. She confirmed it herself." Kazuya then went on to explain about the dojutsu Suzume called the 'Jikogan', that only the pair of them and two other people alive in the world could use it, and that it had been somehow created by his grandfather, the first man who wielded it. Shoryu absorbed the information and nodded occasionally.

When he was finished the boy asked the obvious, "What about your father?"

"He's dead," said Kazuya flatly, "Killed eight years ago." It wasn't the fact of his father's death that shocked the samurai – he'd almost expected it. What got to him was the little piece of odd trivia that Suzume had offered. "But Shoryu, there's something else you should know. I don't know how or why, but for some reason Suzume implicated _you _in killing him."

"Me?" Shoryu scoffed, "Oh yeah! Of course! That makes perfect sense, because when your father died eight years ago I was _five_."

"I considered that too, you obviously didn't kill him, but the way she said it. . ." Kazuya paused suddenly, unsure of how to continue. "I wouldn't hold a grudge: I never knew either of them and I'm sure there would've been reasons, but do you think there's any way that your father could've been involved? It's the only thing I could think of that makes any sense."

Shoryu would've liked to humour his teammate, but even so he shook his head – the timing didn't add up. "That makes even less sense. My father was dead long before that. He was killed before I was born."

"I see. One more thing though – she knew something about the clone attacks. I don't know what or how, but she's involved in some way," said Kazuya.

"She actually admitted to that?" quizzed Shoryu. It seemed like a rather incriminating thing to tell him when surrounded by one hundred thousand people who would suffer from the attacks if they persisted.

"Not directly, no. But I could tell. She was evasive when I asked her about it."

"Did she have that mark?" Shoryu asked as he jerked his thumb to the violet symbol emblazoned on his jacket.

"Uchiha and Honami had it on their arms, right here." Kazuya motioned to the spot by his upper bicep. "She wore long sleeves; if she did have it then I couldn't see it."

The two discussed the matter briefly for another few minutes before being ushered back over to the table by their comrades. The celebrations continued as they ate their fill and moved on to plans for the future. Ayako's proposal was just as she'd outlined, to team up with Jinga and Yuudai to take on the exams again in six months' time once she was finally back on her feet.

With the three of them already knowing each other it would save the unnecessary hassle of building bridges and working out trust issues with new teammates, meaning they could spend more time honing their respective skills and thus have a better chance at winning.

Shoryu agreed that it was the best idea, though as they discussed future strategy he found his mind elsewhere. Kazuya had given him too much to think about; the situation surrounding the clones seemed to get harder and harder to understand with every little detail that was revealed about them. In spite of his dismissal he still couldn't help but wonder why Suzume had suggested that he – or indeed his father – had been responsible for the death of Michio Senmatsu.

Looking across the table he could see that Kazuya was just as puzzled and deep in thought as he was. As much as he tried to turn it off Shoryu's mind began to conjure up new theories, each one even more absurd and convoluted than the last one. He was about to move on to his tenth and most ridiculous one of all when the footsteps of heavy boots interrupted their conversation.

Saito Yukizawa marched in through one of the doors leading eastward down the corridors. He'd clearly just finished his routine as head judge for the previous match and had made his way down here to tie up some loose ends. With a plastic bag in hand he ignored the buffet and weaved through the mass of circular stools until he arrived at their table.

As a side-effect from his profession, even in real life he seemed to enjoy creating tension. The table ceased their chatter when he arrived, looming and tall as if about to attack. He never met Shoryu's eyes, and he took a full five seconds of silence to finally announce his intentions.

"I would like to wish the victors of yesterday's events congratulations," he said. "These jackets mark your status as Chunin."

The Zawa then fished around in his plastic bag before pulling out three sets of matching vest-jackets. As the standard issue for the Village Hidden in the Clouds they were white, stitched down side and cut off at the shoulders with black trim coating the edges. They weren't specifically required except on formal occasions, though Shoryu knew many Chunin and Jonin opted to wear them in combat anyway – to show off their status he imagined.

Saito handed one to Kazuya and one to Hoshi. He kept hold of the third as he finally forced himself to look Shoryu in the eye. The boy held his nerve as the man extended the gift, and he moved to accept it until Saito pulled it back.

"Of course, it _is _your choice whether you accept the rank of a Chunin or not," he pointed out.

"Why would he _not _want that rank?" asked Ayako, as hostile with the man as Kazuya was.

Saito gave a devilish smirk. "Why indeed. You see, a few hours ago the results of the Summit Conference came back. It isn't good news I'm afraid. It seems likely that war is upon us – surely you know that Chunin are the first sent out to the frontlines. No one would blame you for refusing such a trial."

"Hmm," pondered Shoryu. He took the vest and looked it over like a pretentious maiden sizing up a dress. Putting a hand to his chin he pouted in indecision. "I guess this jacket doesn't really suit me. . ."

For one cruel, devastating moment everyone present (save for Kazuya) actually believed that Shoryu was about to throw away all the hard work he'd strived to achieve. He was joking as usual, but that didn't stop the sudden scare – Saito looked positively elated until the boy carried on and crushed his hopes.

"But I think I'll keep it anyway. Thanks for the offer though!" With that, Shoryu turned back to his sandwich, leaving Saito fuming in rage after being tricked by such an obvious ruse.

"_You_. . ." he whispered, his voice hoarse. Shoryu had tried his patience more times than he'd cared to admit lately, but this was a stretch too far – the fact that the five other ninja erupted in laughter tipped Saito over the edge. "You _insolent_ vermin! You'll die a dog's death in this war!"

"Really? How do you figure that?" Shoryu asked coolly. His voice feigned genuine interest, but he never turned back around.

"Because you're nothing - a worthless excuse for a ninja! You're not even good enough for our clan, so what makes you think you could represent our entire nation? You, the shame of the Zawa family – the pathetic little boy who couldn't even activate the Raik-"

"-And just like that, I appear to have stopped caring." Shoryu interrupted the Jonin before he could even finish his sentence. This resulted in another wave of laughter around the table, until Saito suddenly grabbed the boy by the scruff of his collar. He whirled Shoryu around and pinned him by his throat, holding him against the surface of the table and throttling him with a grip like a crab.

"Someone like _you _can't speak to _me _like that!" he roared. He squeezed harder and harder, but Shoryu's expression of placid ignorance never changed that much.

"Tell that to the crowd from yesterday's match," he managed to choke out. "You know, I just think you're bitter."

The noise that came from Saito was hardly even human. He growled lividly as his eyes flashed blue and the lightning bolts upon his palms flushed to life. Shoryu might've been smaller, younger and weaker, but the boy's tongue was both his biggest strength and his biggest flaw. He had an answer to everything – a counterargument to any point. What infuriated many was that normally he was right, and it tramped all over their ideals, getting them wound up enough to put him in situations like this one.

But unlike before, he had allies that would get him out of them.

A fist slammed into Saito's face right as his Raikyogan activated, hurling him across the floor and away from his captive. With his neck released and his breath back Shoryu turned around to see that Kazuya had come to his aid, glazing his fist over with a glove of solid ice before he'd made his devastating haymaker.

Dread filled the boy; did Kazuya understand what he was doing by attacking a ninja of superior rank? What would happen? Would he strip them of their titles? Did he have that authority? Unbeknownst to Shoryu though, Kazuya had a clever plan up his sleeve. He held firm as Saito wiped the blood away from his mouth and rose to his feet, looking angrier than ever before.

"What fool dares strike me? _Do you know who I am?_" he cried. "I'll have your head for this, _boy_."

"Forgive me, Saito Yukizawa, Jonin of the Cloud and head of the Zawa household, but I believe _you _are the one who does not know who _I _am. Your status may not even compare to my own." Kazuya began.

As this was going on, the remaining members of Squads Five sat back and gasped. After a few moments their wits returned however, and one by one they rose to their feet to join Kazuya's side in front of Shoryu. Given a few more moments Shoryu suspected that Ayako would've been the one to assault his oppressor - Kazuya had simply beaten her to the punch.

Saito continued on his rant, "Ha! _Your _status? My clan traces back hundreds of years; we are the most elite ninja that the Land of Lightning has to offer! We have supported and even provided numerous Kage, our numbers are without match – _our_ origins trace back all the way to the time of the Kanzen Raikyogan – what can _you _do against the force of all this?"

"Listen closely ninja, for I will say this only once," lectured the boy. He was a thirteen year old speaking to the mid-fifties head of a rival clan as an equal, but in his mind it was justified. "_I_ am Kazuya Takashi. I belong to the Village Hidden in the Glacier. Surely you've heard of Yamamoto Takashi, the legendary warrior – this is his sword." Kazuya unsheathed and brandished his weapon of choice. "So you see; yours is not the only clan of noble ancestry. Why am I in possession of this sword you ask? Simple: I am the next Taisho of the village."

Saito growled in irritancy – even in his state of blinded wrath he could see where this was going.

"In _my_ village, people aren't judged on what they are or aren't born with. They are regarded for their feats in battle and their merits to the clan. That, in addition to the fact that he is _my _acquaintance, means that Shoryu Aizawa is a loyal and valuable ally to all the samurai of the Glacier."

Shoryu paused, confused. He wasn't any of that – he'd met the samurai only once and ended up unwittingly insulting them just to get a shot in at Kazuya. But the young future Taisho didn't stop there.

"The samurai of my village look forward to his every visit and hail all which he has done for them; they sing his name and toast to him over drinks and queue for entire streets just to have the honour of crossing swords in sparring with him. If even _one_ of them learned that you tried to swindle Shoryu Aizawa out of his position – let alone threaten to harm him – then it wouldn't be the Fifth Shinobi World War that you'd have to worry about.

"No, Saito, it would be a war between the Zawa clan and the Takashi. You suppose that your heritage is impressive? That your numbers are staggering? Come then, why don't you compare them to ours? If you know the first thing about us samurai then you should know that we are hardly foes to be taken lightly. Personally I think the warriors of my village would relish this opportunity, how about yours? I tell you this as merely a warning, because if I see that you've come anywhere _near _Shoryu again then I'll have no choice to tell them of all you've done. . ."

Saito tightened his fists hard enough to draw blood, shaking with barely subdued anger at being bested so easily. There was nothing he could do in this situation; all six of the younger ninja could tell just by the look on his face that he daren't raise another hand to Shoryu, if only to abate the wrath of more than fifty pissed off samurai.

The Zawa clan against the Takashi would certainly be a battle to be remembered. Even Shoryu found himself wondering who would emerge victorious in such a war. Whichever side won would not triumph without their fair share of losses, so Saito's dilemma was understandable: if he upheld his clan's pride and continued to assault Shoryu, the Zawa family would either by wiped out or their numbers cut by at least half from the ensuing battle.

At least, Kazuya had convinced him of that. In truth the Takashi clan didn't care either way what happened to Shoryu – there would be no war even if Kazuya requested it. But what Saito didn't know couldn't hurt him.

"This isn't over, brat," he said at last. With a swish of his cape the head of the clan turned and marched out of the canteen, kicking a chair in his way as he did so. They heard his angry footsteps stamping down the corridor until the door slammed behind him. Silence followed for a few moments as the group relaxed and neutralized their charged chakra, then:

"'They sing his name and toast to him over drinks'? Seriously? You couldn't think of something better than that?" laughed Yuudai.

"Maybe I overdid it a little," Kazuya admitted as he sheathed his weapon. "But he bought that, right?"

"Obviously," said Hoshi.

The two teams returned to their seats and continued as though nothing had happened, yet Shoryu sat smugly with a wide smile across his lips. He'd picked up on something the others hadn't. When Ayako noticed his satisfied little grin she asked him about it, at which point Kazuya sighed and planted a hand to his forehead.

"Don't say it!" he warned.

Shoryu laughed again. The Chunin exams were over now; Kazuya had no excuse for abandoning his ways and bluffing his way out of conflict. Mimicking the same words he'd spoken earlier, the boy cried aloud, "Deception is a crucial part of being a shinobi!"

"I swear I'll _kill you!_"

* * *

Reizo knew from the moment the two pyres collided that his was the weaker. Despite how big his jutsu was, how bright it shone, how hot it burned or how much of his chakra he poured into it, the White Blaze Ultima was no match for Kira's S-Ranked Jutsu. When the Maelstrom Pyrus finally managed to overwhelm his own technique it had already been hindered by Reizo's flames, but it still cooked him black.

The Jonin couldn't help sending out a short scream when the phoenix's breath washed over him. He dropped to his knees, using his hands to support himself as his entire body felt the effects of first and second-degree burns. A flash of blue suddenly appeared to his left. He transferred chakra and formed a simple hand sign, hoping it would be enough to save him from death.

"_Earth Style: Stone Grid Jutsu!_"

It was a pitifully basic jutsu to use. The ground to his side rose up in a waffle-shaped slab to guard him from the attack, but despite earth's natural advantage over water the serpent still crashed through it meeting little resistance. It slammed into Reizo, following up on the phoenix's attack by assaulting the Jonin with all the force of a tsunami.

He found himself spinning with the tide, soaking wet with the force knocking every shallow breath of wind from his lungs. When his dizziness subsided he groped for a handhold to slow himself down as he skidded towards the cliff edge. He found one and stopped, but even when he did he wondered what use it would do – he might as well just roll over and die.

Being drenched and nearly out-cold from that last attack meant that he could no longer utilise his prized Daimyo Raikyogan. He disabled the dojutsu right as Kira began to laugh to himself, his victory imminent.

"Well done Reizo, you're still alive after all," he said. His water and flame-based jutsu even appeared to share his delight.

Reizo punched the floor in frustration; it was over. His own signature technique had been utterly disabled and he found himself still facing two of the deadliest attacks the Cloud had seen in a hundred years. Kira would kill him here and now; then he would catch up to Hatori and kill him too, destroying the condemning evidence and continuing his life leading the village as they went about their lives, oblivious to his true nature.

He'd let them all down – his village, his country, Kazuya, Ayako, Shoryu. _Shoryu. . . _He wondered, realising the battle was far from over. _He's supposed to have a Raikyogan by birth right but he doesn't. I bet he's passed no matter what my father throws his way – he uses his own strength. I need to do the same for this. Think, what can I use?_

Reizo scanned the environment for something – anything that could give him the advantage. He had a whole cliff of rock to fuel his earth techniques, but they only lasted so long against the combined force of the Tsunami Aquas and Maelstrom Pyrus. If he used his fire techniques they'd simply be overturned by phoenix, as he had nothing to match its level. Lightning techniques on the other hand – save for the Raikyogan – could be used. He'd failed at targeting the basilisk before, but now his eyes darted around the whole clearing until he found his source of inspiration.

The Phoenix Maelstrom Pyrus emitted a dark smog of noxious smoke that rose high into the sky, polluting the view with pregnant storm clouds that would bear their rain in a few hours. All Reizo had to do was speed up that process using a vast amount of his own chakra.

He quickly formulated a plan; he had three jutsu in mind, but the three of them – the last one in particular – consumed a tremendous amount of energy on his part. He'd never pushed himself to that kind of limit before, meaning he had no idea whether or not he contained the chakra necessary. Still, he was dead if he didn't act anyway, so he decided to go ahead with it, forming the first hand sign to start off his collection of formidable jutsu.

"Seriously? You still persist?" asked Kira. "Why? Your most effective technique is gone."

"I've got more tricks up my sleeve than just the Raikyogan, Lord Raikage! You're about to learn that the hard way. Mark my words, you won't leave this place until I'm dead and buried!"

Reizo continued to weave together his hand signs at a rate alarmingly faster than before – his speed began to rival even that of Kira's, and the look of eager adrenaline in his eyes assured the older man that this was no bluff. It served to confuse him; as the Kage of the village he had files on everyone. He'd studied every ninja who could pose a threat to him – including Reizo – and formulated effective counters against their every jutsu.

"HA!" he laughed. "There's nothing you can use that I haven't already compensated for. I've got your entire arsenal memorised!"

Reizo smiled and replied, "Oh trust me, you haven't seen everything just yet."

"Oh really?"

"_Earth Style: Grand Stone Fortress!_"

Before Kira could react accordingly the Jonin had every pebble in the cliff face under his control. Reizo assimilated the entire land around him; in mere moments the cliff had shrunk to about half its normal size, its thick chunks of rock breaking off and rising of their own accord, spiralling around him. They wove together, glued in place and smoothed out the jutting edges of their crags to form a single solid structure.

Standing before him, Kira found that Reizo had created exactly what his jutsu had outlined – a fort made entirely from the earth itself, complete with two whole storeys and its own little entrances. Catapults and barrages of the same material were posted outside, drawn back and primed, ready to bombard the Kage and his pet jutsu with every remaining stone the cliff had to offer.

This, however, was something Kira had foreseen already. He knew all about the technique, and although it put a blockade in his way it was nothing he couldn't eventually break down with the force of the Maelstrom Pyrus and the Tsunami Aquas.

As the garrison pelted both the phoenix and the serpent with wave after wave of solidified rock Kira ordered them to attack. They battered against the Grand Stone Fortress, spewing their element-infused breaths onto the building and ramming it with every tonne of their combined weight. Every time they did so another layer of rock exploded from the surface and scattered into the waters below. Kira began to get impatient before long; he upped the velocity of his attacks if only to get Reizo's protective shell out of the way.

"You can't hide behind that forever! Once I smash it to pieces you'll be buried underneath it!" Kira bellowed.

Conversely, Reizo was doing much more than simply hiding. He shot off hand signs at lightning fast speeds in the dimly lit upper level of his stronghold. Rocks from the roof and walls crumbled and clattered to the floor around him, though by the time the Kage began to seriously threaten the fortress his jutsu was complete. He held the last seal, darted left away from a patch of falling ceiling and leapt up through the hole it had left in its wake to the roof.

Now that his opponent was back in sight Kira's smile widened. He pointed past an incoming slingshot of gathered rock and ordered his servants to attack. Reizo thrust his hand to the sky, directing his chakra to the black clouds above and manipulating them to do his bidding. From head to toe he was wet as a drenched rat, but unlike the Raikyogan it mattered little to this particular jutsu.

"_Lightning Style: Storm Command Jutsu!_"

Both the blazing phoenix and the waterfall of a snake were both suddenly intercepted in their path towards Reizo; a bolt of lightning broke the air between them, forcing the creatures to back off in fear before all hell broke loose from the clouds. Lightning began to fall – a bolt a second, stemming from the blackened clouds that Kira had unwittingly created using the Maelstrom Pyrus.

For the most elite shinobi it was an old trick that had been historically difficult to pull off. Reizo had no idea who had originally come up with such a great idea, but he praised and cursed them for it at the same time. On the one hand he now had Kira on the ropes. With tendrils of thunder falling like rain to contend with on top of the onslaught from his fortress, the Kage was shown no quarter in which to attack back. Atop the snake he swerved to and fro to avoid the hail, moving about erratically just to save his own skin.

On the other hand, the Storm Command Jutsu used up far more chakra than Reizo would've liked. It left him weak, panting for breath and on the verge of complete exhaustion after the high toll the battle had already taken on him. It also made his foe's movements ridiculously hard to follow; Kira bobbed about randomly, making Reizo's final and most formidable jutsu even harder to pull off – if he timed it wrong he would miss his only chance.

With a single sign Reizo blasted his right hand with a single, low-powered blast of the White Blaze Jutsu. He winced as he toasted his hand lightly in the process, but at least it was dry. Unlike the Raikyogan which manipulated his entire body's bioelectric field, this last jutsu was formed out of his chakra, concentrated only into the palm of his right hand.

A simple alteration to his stone fortress allowed Reizo to form another catapult – this one on the roof. He strode over to the platform where a chunk of rock ought to be and stood firmly; it would fire him into the air on his command only, but before that happened he had to execute his third jutsu. He only hoped he retained consciousness.

His last two jutsu had required upwards of forty hand signs. This required three, but the chakra it consumed was way beyond the comfort zone of even most Jonin. After executing the seal of the ox, the rabbit and the monkey Reizo took its signature stance. He stood with knees bent, his right arm straight and facing downwards with his left hand gripping his forearm, as though he tried to push down and contain some great unfathomable power.

In actuality that wasn't far from the truth.

Focused lightning burst from the surface of his dry right hand. Blue and white bolts raged in a handheld thunderstorm at his feet, stemming from a circuit of volatile, charging energy cupped within his palm. Before long the excess thunder danced around him, forming a circle by his feet and illuminating his gruelling expression with a shifting glow of electric blue.

Most notable however, was the sound this particular jutsu made. The unstable hissing of a broken generator surged to life, and faintly behind it the noise of what sounded like birds screeched from his arm as he struggled to keep the technique under control.

He looked up, finding the most fundamental drawback of the attack instantly. This jutsu created a form of tunnel-vision; he could see only straight ahead of him, and when moving, one could only run in a straight line. He'd heard before that the original users of this jutsu utilised the Sharingan to compensate for this fault, allowing them to predict the movements of their opponents and fire it accordingly. Reizo had no such luxury so the risk was far greater, meaning he used it only in do-or-die situations.

With Kira moving about so much under the flying landslide and lightning storm it would be made even harder to land. Worse still was the fact that the Raikage himself had already noticed Reizo charging it – the immense flash of blue and white light it gave out coupled with the signature noise of crackling pylons made it almost impossible to ignore.

"_What is that jutsu?_" he demanded as he directed the serpent away from a rock. "I've never heard anything of it before! When did you learn _that?_"

"_This_," Reizo began, "is a technique from long before you or I even existed – a remnant of some of the most powerful ninja to ever walk the land. I spent these last few years learning it, and the reason you've not heard of it until now. . . Is because no one who's ever seen me use this jutsu has lived to tell of it later."

Kira's fear became palpable immediately. Reizo could see as he jerked and twisted between flying boulders and dropping lightning that he was scared – scared that there was no way for him to possibly dodge it. Reizo watched for a few seconds, searching for some kind of rhythm in the Kage's flow to exploit. He found one eventually. It was a gamble, but it was the best chance he had to end this for good.

He kicked off a burst of chakra from his feet, sending up the catapult that propelled him fifty feet into open air. Below him the ravine of rushing water and debris loomed, and before him the sight of Kira's and his monsters fending for their lives rushed to meet him. He closed the gap between them in seconds; Reizo felt the splash of the water snake's fangs nip at his soles as he sailed right over its head, closing in on the arch of its neck where Kira Asakura stood defenceless and exposed.

Tunnel vision mixed with his already growing delirium to make his eyesight weak, but he wouldn't falter now. He drew back his arm, bursting with thunder, and thrust it forward with all the strength he could conceivably muster.

"_RAIKIRI!_"

As Reizo landed the roar of the electrical storm cried out louder than ever. He plunged his glowing hand right into the chest of the Tenth Raikage, impaling his heart, exploding his every muscle from the inside out with a sudden burst of concentrated lightning.

At long last he'd done it – the Raikage was defeated and the wound he'd left upon the village left to heal at the guidance of a new one. Above them the phoenix dissipated into smoke. Below them the surface of the snake condensed and shrunk into fog, dropping Reizo into a sudden fall as he fainted there on the spot.

* * *

When the Jonin regained consciousness a minute or two later he found himself floating on his back down the river that sailed beneath the bridge. Debris from both the broken arch and the cliff-face knocked into him every now and again, joining him in the current flowing carelessly down the stream. His every joint ached at the slightest twitch; for a while he simply wanted to lie on his back and flow wherever the river wanted to take him, but then he spied the body of Kira Asakura.

The Kage was face-down in the current, floating just a few metres ahead of him and leaving behind a thick trail of blood where Reizo had opened him up with the Raikiri. The jutsu had taken more out of him than he realised; at his peak he could use it three times before his chakra diminished, but using it so late in the fight meant that he'd been in no condition to properly execute it in the first place.

Knowing that jutsu and valuable information could be extracted from the bodies of fallen ninja, Reizo hardly thought it wise to leave the carcass of a _Kage _just lying around. Using all his willpower he swam forward and took the old man under his arm before dragging them to the bank of the river.

They'd floated quite a way; Reizo couldn't even see the broken bridge anymore. Here the stone was crushed into thick, damp sand that suctioned against his hand whenever he planted it. Above them an overhanging crag of rock formed a shadow over the Jonin and the dead Kage. They were hardly ideal circumstances, but Reizo could think of far worse.

He flipped over Kira's body before jumping back in fright when the old man stirred. Reizo leapt to his feet as quick as a jackrabbit, brandishing his spear to full size and preparing to finish off his opponent by sticking him right through the skull. He stopped, however, when he noticed the new expression across his old leader's face.

No longer did he wear that hatred-fuelled sneer of wicked mocking. His eyes had reverted from their beady, evil and manic glare into a sunken, softer look. He stared up at the cloudy sky as if looking at the heavens themselves. The frown lines of his once-malicious snigger had faded into the wrinkles that displayed his true age, and instantly Reizo understood what had happened.

Pain was the bane of Genjutsu; if one subjected themselves to enough of it they could break free of the illusions and control of their captors. In blasting Kira with the full force of the Raikiri, Reizo had unwittingly set free the tired old man who'd been trapped, unable to move inside his own body for over a decade. It mattered little in the grand scheme of things – Kira wasn't long for this world anyway, but he saw it differently.

Using whatever strength he had remaining the elder somehow managed to raise his hand and clasp the ankle of the Jonin. It was a simple gesture, but the best he could do under the circumstances.

"Reizo," he spluttered, coughing up another mouthful of blood. "B-. . . Be careful. Be careful of," he went on, "_Al-Alpha Gene. _And. . . _Jikogan_. . . _Senmatsu_ - they're all. . ." Deluded and dying, the Kage released his grip on Reizo's ankle. He let out a long exhale and closed his eyes, satisfied that he could spend the last moments of his life as a free man with his strange message half-delivered. "Thank you. . ."

* * *

**End of Volume I**

* * *

Author's Notes: Whaaaa? Reizo has the Raikiri? Yup. I dunno, guess I just liked the idea of a jutsu that Kakashi created still being around as like a super-secret ultimate technique a century and a half after his death. The Sharingan and the Byakugan until now have been the only major jutsu still alive and kicking in Legacies.

Reizo also used Sasuke's method of turning rain clouds into a storm if anyone noticed. The only difference being that Reizo had to spend a massive amount of his own chakra to manipulate it whereas Sasuke basically condensed it into his own. Yeah it doesn't make much sense to me either - Sasuke just totally hax'd that part as far as I'm concerned xD

The jutsu chart got another big update with another bunch of A and S-Ranks. The Raikiri is also up there even though it's not mine, it's just as a power-comparison thing so you know what level of techniques we're dealing with.

So we know what the Jikogan is, but what's the Alpha Gene? Well, all I can say that we've already seen it in some way on five separate occasions so far, I'll just tease it at that :P

So yeah, that was Volume 1. Considering it was called "The Dawn of a New Threat" I think it worked out quite well! There's a timeskip in the next chapter with the beginning of Volume 2 as I've mentioned already, so those scenes you've just read are the _last you'll ever see_ of the thirteen year old renditions of Shoryu, Kazuya and Ayako. Kind of ended on a cheery note didn't it? Sure they're going to war, but as long as Shoryu and Kazuya are still at each other's throats it'll aaaalllll be fine. . . OR WILL IT?

So how long is the timeskip? Months? Years? Wait and see! Volume 2, as you can probably guess, revolves around the war. Also here are all the unanswered questions so far in Legacies, some of which you've probably even forgotten all about. That's right, ALL of these will be answered throughout Volume 2:

_Who and what are the clones? What is their goal? Who do they serve? Who created them? Who is the Genjutsu master that possessed the clones and Kira Asakura? Why are the clones under Genjutsu in the first place? What is the Alpha Gene?_

_What does that purple insignia stand for? How does it tie together the clones, their masters, Shoryu's father, Kiyoshi Uchiha and Kamiko Honami?_

_Why is there only one dragon remaining? Why were the clones after it? Who was the anonymous client who posted the egg mission? Who is/was the recent, left hand-printed summoner of the dragons with unreadable writing?_

_What exactly happened to Kazuya's father Michio; was he really killed by someone connected to Shoryu? What's the story behind the dojutsu that was 'created' by Kazuya's grandfather?_

_What happened to Shoryu's father Shoichi? Why did he have a flute from the Takashi clan – was he close with them?_

_Why did Shoryu miss out on the Raikyogan?_

All this and more! Also there's a drawing of new-era Shoryu in next chapter. Sayonara!


	24. Chapter 24 The Fifth Shinobi World War

Chapter 24: The Fifth Shinobi World War

Four Years Later

'_Log entry 23, September 1st_

_It's not the greatest thing to experience when you first kill a man. When that moment comes when you run your blade through their heart your mind goes wild; you've just ended the life of another – what happens to their spouses? Their children? Their siblings? Their parents? They've all lost someone they can't replace, and it's all your fault._

_I can't believe it slipped my mind, but last month marks the fourth year I've been out here. It's funny how time seems to blur together when you're repeating the same process over and over again for four years straight. Killing people, avoiding being killed blah blah blah. At any time in any place you could be killed by a blind shuriken to the back of your head. Once you realise that, you begin to cherish every moment and take nothing for granted out here – I think that might be the key to how we've survived so long, but then again I can't say for sure._

_Four years as acting Chunin. . . There aren't many of us left in this division who can boast such experience, however meagre it might sound. Most that aren't dead retired early to prevent that happening – maybe they were the smart ones. Who knows? All I know is that I've got all I need out here and that Reizo-sensei – I mean – Lord Raikage (It's still strange calling him that) is counting on me to do my best._

_To say that it's been a crazy four years would be putting it lightly. Even though Hoshi might be a pain in my ass she's not so bad once you get used to her, and I hear Kazuya's village is practically booming with trade now so I'm glad he's not going anywhere in a hurry; can't believe they let him have a week off six months ago to get married._

_Shame they didn't give me the same honour. I haven't seen mother or Reizo sen– Lord Raikage for years now. I get letters from one and orders from another. And no, it's not in the order you might think._

_I still remember Ayako saying she'd see us on the battlefield in six months. Well she definitely lived up to that promise. Three and a half years ago she met up with us here in the Land of Hot Water; I think joining up with Yuudai and Jinga was probably the best decision she could've made._

_When the war broke out the Chunin exams became privatised – every nation had their own. I heard they got harder after that point, though I wouldn't tell Ayako that. We'd never hear the end of it. Her ego is steadily beginning to rival my own. . . God I hope she never finds this._

_With the six of us together I can't help but feel like we can do anything. These four years haven't exactly been a walk in the park for any of us, but if I were alone I don't know if I'd be able to handle it. I think that's probably why I don't seem worried at all. I mean, the Mist is coming at us again and again from the southeast and I hear the Stone is starting the invasion on the Land of Sound – even if we manage to hold the Land of Hot Water we'll be sandwiched between the two of them._

_The general consensus is that it won't happen though. The Mist will probably overrun and claim the Hot Water within the next week or so, and that's if the clones don't take it first. We'll be forced to pull back to the Land of Snow, and I don't doubt that we'll lose another few hundred in the process. I just hope the others make it out okay, if anything happened to them I don't know wh-'_

"Commander!" the high pitched announcement of another boy disrupted Shoryu. The jolt startled him such that the young man dropped his pen and slammed shut the log before anyone had a chance to glimpse its personal contents.

He sat in a broad field of chest high grass, a lengthy stalk of wheat caught between his teeth as he pondered away with what few minutes he had to spare. His thoughts flowed in the wind and he was normally allowed to relax for a brief writing session with his log. Unfortunately Kazuya knew that this was his favourite place to slack off and had informed the small troop of Genin and Chunin about his hiding place. Shoryu vowed to get him back for that.

"Sir, troops from the Land of Fire have been spotted approaching the south border. They've already made it past the first outpost," added the young man.

"Alright, alright." Shoryu rose to his feet yawning and stretched out like a cat. In four years he'd grown considerably. He no longer had the face of a rookie teenager without a care in the world; now he was a young adult – seventeen years old with more experience under his belt than most in Division Two. Slim sideburns the same chocolate brown of his hair now ended level with his earlobes, and the gruff coat of a new stubble told him he needed a shave – that always annoyed him. He concluded that the only good thing about aging was that he could now fit comfortably into his father's coat.

"Enough with the 'commander' and 'sir' anyway. I've told you before that it's ridiculous. Some of you guys are the same rank as me now. I'm not a Jonin just yet," said Shoryu.

"No sir," said the younger boy. "But when commander Makizo died you were his second in command. None of the other Jonin in Division Two wanted to take his post, so you're the one who had to take over his role by default, right? And since Lord Raikage didn't forcefully appoint anyone else we figured he wanted it that way. You were his student after all."

"That's because all the Jonin assigned to Division Two seem to be cowards who think they can get by just sneaking around or commanding from the side-lines and never coming close to an actual battle. I've pretty much got all the duties of a Jonin but I'm on the payroll of a Chunin. So what does that make me?"

The ten ninja exchanged looks of confusion and whispered potential answers to each other before Shoryu leaned forwards and slapped one hand on the shoulder of the reporting officer.

"A sucker," he revealed. Shoryu allowed a laugh to go around his colleagues before another of the troop urgently spoke out, conveying what he heard through his earpiece.

"Sir, the Leaf force is approaching; they'll be upon us in five minutes! We need to move!"

"Five minutes is more than enough time for me to get there," said Shoryu. He took a moment to think about the situation as he fumbled around in his pouch. The fact that Hidden _Leaf_ ninja were approaching meant this was another clone attack meant to antagonise the war further; it was an army conjured from forces they hadn't gotten any closer to finding out about. Even with the cryptic dying clues of Kira Asakura they were still no closer to finding anything on this 'Alpha Gene' or whatever it had to do with Kazuya's family.

Hiromasa Hyuga along with Reizo were the only Kage remaining who defended only their own keep – they never sent bands of ninja out to attack other lands in the hope of future peace. The fact that he'd be fighting clones again gave Shoryu solace, as he never felt a scrap of guilt whenever he cut one down.

"But it's a two mile walk to the outpost sir!"

A Chunin who stood beside the inquisitive ninja jabbed his friend in the arm and raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah, you're new here aren't you? Commander Shoryu heads the aerial unit. You haven't seen what he does yet right?"

"What he does? Wait – what's the aerial unit? I've never heard of it in any other division."

"That's because it's not a real troop – Commander Shoryu _is _the aerial unit."

Shoryu smiled, pretending not to hear the comments as he withdrew a scroll from his pouch and stamped its contents into being with a slap of his hand. The puff of smoke gave way to both a saddle and a rather impressive set of armour.

Silver, lightweight and gleaming in the sun, the suit was perfect for battle. This particular armour was made of some foreign alloy as hard as steel, yet supple and pliable at the same time. With Shoryu's fondness for complex manoeuvrability in battle it suited him perfectly. The young man strapped on the gauntlets and tightened the greaves before clasping the main cuirass over his chest.

Occasionally he'd forego the helmet, but the calibre of this battle called for it. Like the rest of the armour it was angular, sleek, and shiny, rising up to a pair of jagged spines at the top and back so that no one in their right mind would try and wrench it off him.

When fully suited up Shoryu looked like a different man. He'd switched from his traditional black and blue to lustrous silver in an instant, his stature fully deserving of the 'commander' title he'd been given from his peers. The mobility of the gauntlets allowed for hand signs, so he pulled together a few and planted the ground a second time.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

The resulting explosion of smoke was far larger this time around. The mist from the summoning swept so quickly in the wind that a few of the Genin were forced to cover their mouths and cough from it entering their lungs. Only no matter how much they spluttered their breath never came back to them, for the sight they witnessed was one that stole it right back.

There, nestled comfortably in the waist-high stalks of the simple field, rested a dragon. Shoryu and his group of close friends had changed drastically in four years, though their transformations were menial compared to the growth of Kyoh. On all fours he rested at close to three metres long with a wingspan flaring up to five – the perfect size for just a single passenger.

The light blue of his scales had gradually darkened to a shade akin to rivers by moonlight. His claws – along with his teeth, the spines on his back and the bladed axe-shape of his tail fin, were a stark bone-white, elongated and sharp enough to be deadly to any who dared even graze them. Kyoh blinked open a round, fist-sized sapphire of an eye and regarded the group of ninja with suspicion until he spotted his summoner.

"Good morning Shoryu. Is it time for a hunt, or are we training again?" What was once the high-pitched squeal of a cawing baby reptilian had long since deepened. Kyoh's voice was low and rumbling, a thrum like the warning of an oncoming storm. The harsh look and intimidating voice served to scare many of the ninja, though Shoryu simply grinned and approached the beast.

"A hunt, you'll be glad to hear," he replied.

"Good."

Ever since he'd learned to talk, Shoryu had for the longest time suspected that Kyoh lived somewhere that didn't really suit his natural habitat – perhaps a gloomy cavern or some woodland region with trees too tightly packed together for a grown dragon to fly. Anytime he was allowed to soar through the open air Kyoh was happy, and his primal instincts meant that he enjoyed battle more than any ninja or samurai Shoryu had met.

In that regard the dragon was simply the best companion he could hope for. Kyoh's daunting presence on the battlefield coupled with the silver set of 'dragonlord armour' he'd given Shoryu had done wonders for the teen's status. Of course, his ego being what it was meant that Shoryu wouldn't allow _all _of his renown to be based on something he acquired by luck. Nightly training and a wealth of experience allowed him to back up every statement boasted about him.

Shoryu threw the brown leather saddle over the arch between Kyoh's neck and shoulders, strapped it securely into place and leapt into the seat. He fastened his ankles in and took hold of the reins.

"Sir, first contact with the enemy in three minutes!" called one of the ninja.

"I'll be there in two. Tell them to hold the line and not to engage – let them come to us," Shoryu replied.

"Yes sir."

At a kick of his master's heels Kyoh leapt to the sky with a single beat of his powerful, muscular wings. The pair gained altitude with every flap, bursting through the clouds and out of sight before Kyoh twisted into an angled dive. At the dragon's top speed the wind rippled Shoryu's face into a comical warp and he was forced to shield his eyes to see far.

When Kyoh had finished showing off he streamed back under the clouds and levelled out to a slow, comforting ride that allowed his rider a glimpse of the scene below. As they glided over a broad canyon Shoryu could see: close to a thousand shinobi stood in complex formations along the plane, facing an army of many more charging clones.

At the rear the projectile unit stood by in wait, hands gripped firmly on their holsters as they waited for a command. At the sides the specialised element manipulators stood patiently – Shoryu thought he could see Yuudai's mass of ridiculous hair even from way up by the clouds. At the centre the general shinobi formed a perfect block; sensors, summoners, healers and other mid-range fighters occupied the space.

Spearheading Division Two was the vanguard, Shoryu's preferred realm. Here the stronger fighters dwelled with the taijutsu and kenjutsu experts along with any Jonin brave enough – there weren't many of them in this division. Shoryu smiled as he glimpsed the new day's hair colour beside the drawn and ready sword of the upcoming Glacier Taisho.

He tugged on the reins, spurring Kyoh towards the unforgettable sunlit view as he drunk in the calm before the storm.

* * *

**Volume II: Senmatsu Rising**

* * *

Around nine hundred leaf-masquerading clones charged towards the stationary vanguard. They drew shuriken and brandished weapons; some even began to form hand signs, but Ayako Tsuji paid them no attention despite being on the very front row. She tapped her foot impatiently and glanced about the skies for any sign of their charismatic compatriot.

In four years the girl had evolved as one might expect. Even without makeup her face was as bright and charming as before, yet the dimples and round cheeks she'd had until mid-teens had disappeared around adolescence. Her figure had matured, being taller with longer legs and a curvaceous shape that men yearned after. Today her hair was violet and flowing casually down her back – it was her weapon of choice after all.

"He really is cutting it fine," she remarked. "One of these days he's going to be late to the battle."

"I wouldn't worry about that. Shoryu loves his entrances – I imagine he's spent the last few days planning this grand arrival," said the samurai at her side.

Ayako sighed and turned to Kazuya. "Yeah, I guess you're right. . ."

Kazuya's development on the other hand was a far more startling transformation. Whilst still being half an inch shorter, his physique was wider and his blows more powerful than Shoryu's. His movements were explosively quick and efficient to the point of being ridiculous; in four years Shoryu had still never beaten him in a serious spar. The red armour of his village had been an engagement present for his marriage to Fujiko, but according to Shoryu he simply wore it because he was in denial – Kazuya was a ninja at heart.

Ayako had arrived on the scene six months after their Chunin Exams and noticed Shoryu immediately. Despite standing by his side though, she'd failed to recognise Kazuya. He'd cut short his long white hair just a few weeks into the war because it hindered his eyesight during combat. At the level he practised Kazuya deemed it necessary to have it short – he couldn't be at his best when he might fail to notice a stray shuriken due to the white curtain blocking his peripheries. His hair had become jagged and spiked, blazing out at the back.

A shadow suddenly descended over the pair of them, and then passed as quickly as it came.

"Ah, here he is," said Kazuya.

Kyoh swooped dangerously low over the Cloud's army in one great dive. As the gusts from his wings pushed against the ground the pair of them heard the rider's familiar voice erupt from the static of their radios.

"_And I'm back!_" he cried.

A single tug of the reins allowed Shoryu to pull Kyoh to a stop as the dragon hovered thirty feet above the no-man's land between the Cloud and the clones. Another tap of his heels forced the beast into a technique unlike any Shoryu had ever showed off before – clearly they'd been working on it for some time.

Kyoh's fire breathing tendencies had always come in handy, but never were they more practical here. With one giant scream of flame the dragon divided the great field into two; he separated the armies with a blazing, twenty foot wall of fire that the clones barrelled straight into. Puffs of smoke already began to fly up from the furnace as the Cloud's morale grew – with this kind of power on their side the troops felt as if they could do anything.

Even the sceptics were filled with the same passion as Shoryu's when the silver-clad rider withdrew two swords and raised them in the air for all to see, and his movements were pronounced by a growling war cry from Kyoh – a feral roar that reverberated far across the land.

It hadn't taken Ayako or Kazuya so long to realise why Shoryu had quickly become so popular and deferred to as commander of Division Two. When times are uncertain and lives are at risk who would the masses turn to for encouragement? The clever, likeable ninja on the back of a ten foot dragon of course.

Ayako smiled and withdrew the radio from her jacket pocket. Clicking the button she spoke, allowing her voice to chatter amongst the six-person frequency. "Show-off," she teased.

Shoryu replied instantly. "_Don't act like you weren't impressed, I can see you blushing from here_."

"Hmph." Ayako pouted and crossed her arms. "Maybe a little."

"_Oh god, not this again_." Another voice suddenly sounded down the comm, this one feigning weariness and boredom. "_Get a room you two!_"

This time Ayako really did blush, if only a little. "Shut up Yuudai!"

"I really hate to interrupt but we've got more important issues to worry about," said Kazuya beside her. He was right too – the sure hiss of steam began to sound as the clone army got to work on putting out the fire with whatever water jutsu they had at their disposal. They'd never put Kyoh's inferno out completely, but at least they could open up big enough gaps within it to send their troops through in waves.

"_Shoryu! More trouble!_" another voice began over the radio. This one sounded timid and awkward; something about him shouting just didn't seem to fit. "_Look up!_"

Sat in the saddle of the hovering reptilian, Shoryu cast his eyes to the sky at Jinga's request. There, high up beneath the clouds, was a small strike force of airborne creatures. They were insects – oversized dragonflies with paper-thin wings and giant bulbous eyes to go with the repulsive stingers topping their tails. By Shoryu's reckoning they were each slightly smaller than Kyoh, and the dragon's bulk and breath of fire compared to their flimsy carapaces gave him the edge. Even so, it was six against one, and there was no way to gauge how good the ninja riding the bugs were.

"_Do you want me to join the battle? I'm on standby back at the rear if you need me," _Jinga offered, trying his best not to seem a coward. In truth he was of best use at the back of the division. He was a fair fighter, but his medical skills were invaluable.

"No, you're alright back there; just keep your eye out for more stuff like that if you can," said Shoryu into the comm. Then, releasing the button, he addressed Kyoh, "Can you take them?"

"Insects are at the bottom of the food chain. _I_ am at the top," rumbled the beast. As if to prove his point the dragon spread out his wings and loosed another roar.

Shoryu narrowed his eyes and scratched his chin. "There _are _six of them."

"There could be six thousand and it would still make little difference."

"Then if you're sure!" Shoryu grinned in delight as he dug in his heels and spurred Kyoh towards the skies. Kazuya, Ayako and the others could more than handle things down here until they got back. He would've loved to join them on the ground, but the idea of doing so when six gargantuan insects hovered overhead didn't seem appealing at all.

Like a falcon in the sun Kyoh headed up to the small troop of bug-riding ninja, fluttering motionless just below the first layer of clouds. The wind picked up at the higher altitudes and nipped at the exposed segments of Shoryu's face as the two approached their enemy. A frothy, spittle-ridden blast of toxic green sludge from the clucking teeth of one of the creatures suddenly sailed down to meet them. Kyoh dodged the attack easily; he twisted, corkscrewing out of the way, losing no speed whatsoever as he continued his ascension.

Shoryu held on tight and flattened himself against Kyoh's neck – a year ago that same spinning manoeuvre would've thrown him out of the saddle at such speeds, but as their experience grew the pair began to perform even the most complex movements without the slightest hesitation. Falling rocks followed the poisonous breath as Kyoh once again zipped out of the way, nimbly avoiding the earthen technique from the rider.

Closing in, the dragon bore his fangs and slammed all his weight into the skinny dragonfly. He snapped at the creature's neck, spreading a fountain of green blood over the moisture of the clouds. He even stained Shoryu's armour when he lashed out at the exposed abdomen of his opponent, claws honed sharper than any blade.

The insect fell dead from the sky, its rider in tow, as Kyoh twisted his body suddenly and roared a smoking firebomb at the next in formation. In just a few seconds he'd felled two of his opponents, though the remaining four would be trickier once aware of his strength. As two more approached from behind, the dragon ducked into a sudden nosedive.

Kyoh weaved from left to right to evade the following hairballs of venomous sludge that fired at his flank. He never looked behind him; his instincts coupled with the subtle movements of Shoryu's heels told him exactly where to move. The dragonflies were fast, but Kyoh was faster. After less than a minute of being on the defensive the dragon led the swarm back into the canyon which they'd crossed over on the way.

After spotting a passage in the orange rocks Kyoh ducked into it. Cliffs on both sides rose up around Shoryu, closing them in with only twenty feet of open space as they raced through the maze of twists and curves at breakneck speeds. Being so close to the ground turned the battle in favour of the dragon, as the agility of the pests allowed them to change directions in a blink without turning their bodies. Here though, their mobility suffered – they found themselves trapped with nowhere to zip to, leaving themselves wide open for Shoryu's attack.

As they hurtled around a bend one quick rove of the ninja's hands unbuckled the straps around his shins. He hopped up to a crouch and turned to face the pursuing creatures, one hand Kyoh's back spike for support and another deftly snatching a windmill shuriken from his back.

He let it fly using all the power he could muster. Shadowed by the cliffs, the shuriken whizzed back along the canyon pass, swerved around the slight curvature and embedded itself perfectly in the speeding creature's face. A shower of green blood followed as the insect toppled to the ground, hitting the ground at eighty miles per hour in a puff of smoke from its clone rider.

"Did you get it?" Kyoh rumbled behind him.

"What do you take me for? Of course I got him. Keep going straight – let me see if I can get one more."

Kyoh complied without a sound as Shoryu let go of his spine and withdrew the two swords. He stood straight up, balanced perfectly with both feet embedded in the crooks of both the saddle and Kyoh's scales.

Then Shoryu closed his eyes. Focusing, channelling and maintaining his chakra required all his concentration, but once he had it nailed he could move comfortably using power he'd once only dreamed of harnessing. A few seconds passed before the ninja's eyes snapped back open; both swords were aglow with a bluish-white shrouding the blades, a result of the young man pouring wind based chakra into the steel.

When using this technique – the Flying Swallow – Shoryu didn't need even a single hand sign to pull off the Air Slash Jutsu; in fact he didn't even need to sheathe his swords. He slashed once at seemingly nothing but air with his left hand, causing his signature arc of wind to blast seamlessly from the length of his offhand sword. The attack clipped the wing of the fourth buzzing dragonfly, but it still retained its flight. Another Air Slash from his leading blade glanced off the side of the cliff face.

Under the speeds at which they flew Shoryu's attack was impossible to land, though luckily for him he had another trick up his sleeve. He'd long since learned to combine a _pair_ of Air Slashes. Shoryu crossed both swords before him in a simple blocking pose before slashing with both simultaneously.

"_Cross Slash Jutsu!_" From the steel edges suddenly erupted a bladed x-shaped curve of wind – two Air Slashes merged with one another to form a single jutsu with a wider radius. The Cross Slash was several times harder to evade; if Shoryu fired it right his opponents would leap away from the most immediate curve and run straight into the second.

The dragonfly and its rider were no exception. The pilot spurred the creature straight into the path of the spinning attack. The insect was dealt a mortal wound, though its rider was struck right in the chest by the upper bend of the x-shaped technique. It dug fast into his chest and didn't dissipate until was at his heart, the force of it wiping him straight out of his saddle in a flash of smoke.

"Shoryu!"

He barely had time to celebrate his success when Kyoh's voice alerted him to another of the peculiar summons. He jumped back into the saddle and observed: This one approached from above, cutting off their path and gawping open its disgusting maw with another blast of those puke-coloured toxic attacks. Kyoh's movements were synchronised perfectly with Shoryu's when the dragon reared up his head and prepared to unleash a shower of hellfire.

In one swift movement both summon and summoner fired. The attacks met a short way into their flight, combining and raging up to the oversized bug with more intensity than either.

"_Wind Style: Blazing Cross Slash!_" cried Shoryu. When fire and air met one another the wind pushed against it, expanding the flames within and shaping it into a larger, more powerful variant of its own form. The subsequent attack must've reached close to twenty feet across, a burning cross of rushing wind that smote the dragonfly's underside, blasting it into four distinct quadrants as easily as a hot knife through butter.

Now that only one remained the last of the fly-riding ninja fled the scene. After being so close on Kyoh's tail the clone tugged at the reins of its summon and took off out of the canyon range. Kyoh wouldn't let it get away though; he'd let no one threaten him and leave unscathed. The dragon geared to the air and performed a somersaulting u-turn that had Shoryu clenching every muscle in his body to stop himself from throwing up - or worse.

After making himself as sublime and streamlined as an arrow Kyoh bolted after his prey. Five powerful flaps of his wings was enough to get him up to full speed, pursuing the final dragonfly through the air and back towards the site of battle where two armies waged war. Two fireballs Kyoh sent at its tail were smoothly avoided at the command of its rider. Shoryu figured this clone was the leader – dispatching him then would cripple the enemy forces.

Kyoh's flames were too slow and far away to hit their enemy now; sure they'd catch up in time where he could easily tear the insect apart with his teeth, but by the time they reached it the young commander could be knee-deep in the enemy's army. Shoryu had grown self-assured over the years, but stupidity and overconfidence were still words rarely associated with him. The teen knew his limits better than any – chasing the leader straight into the enemy's arms would be suicide.

Fortunately he had a better idea: Kyoh might've been too far away to do anything, but he wasn't. With a quickdraw like no other Shoryu whipped out a second windmill shuriken; he drenched it in oil before lobbing it as hard as he could. By the time Kyoh's small jet of flame ignited the projectile into something resembling a spinning meteor Shoryu had assumed command of the currents with the Shuriken Sway Jutsu.

He directed it through the sky, nullifying the cross-currents and draughts and sea-swept zephyrs by pushing against them, at the same time pressuring lightly on the back the shuriken to give it a little extra distance. He'd just about closed the distance between them – just about landed one of his hardest throws – when a ten foot spear of ice suddenly shot like a bullet from the ground below. In flying so close to the battle just to avoid Kyoh, the enemy leader had put himself right within range of Kazuya's attack.

"Aw you're kidding me!" Shoryu moaned as the samurai's icicle skewered his target through its jaw and up into its brain. His expertly thrown projectile did little more than slash in two the familiar puff of smoke and the falling dead body of the dragonfly – a wasted shuriken.

* * *

As another wave of enemies closed in Kazuya held up his mouth to the radio and began a cool, calm laugh at his friend's useless attack. In truth he'd actually noticed the dogfight above and waited until Shoryu made his move before he released his own jutsu, but he'd never tell Shoryu that – it would only add more fuel to the fire. So he simply chuckled down the microphone for all to hear.

"_Damn it Kazuya! I had him there!_" the teen's voice came through the speaker.

Kazuya only smiled to himself as a group of ninja formed up behind him and Ayako. Ahead of them the clones had already begun to pour in through the great wall of fire Kyoh had created. They'd created about a dozen holes in the barrier and poured in like lemmings. Three men abreast they came in waves one after the other, attacking the vanguard and sides in concentrated bursts. Backed by the flames, around ten of them faced Kazuya and Ayako directly as another trio came in every few seconds, but they held fast just as Shoryu instructed.

Five ninja broke off from the clone troop facing them. Kazuya placed one hand over his sword and twitched the other next to it, ready to draw his weapon or form hand signs at a moment's notice. Interestingly it was the clones that began to form the signs; at the same time they each showed three of them and carried out different elemental attacks – one for every nation. Kazuya could form a wall of ice to protect them in a flash, but Ayako reacted faster.

A loud clap beside him told the samurai to stand down. The girl strode in front of him as she primed a blob of colour from one of her six shading scrolls.

"_Orange!_" she cried. Since last year, secondary colours had joined primary colours to widen Ayako's arsenal considerably. The kunoichi formed a barrier before her – this one circular – of the most luminous orange Kazuya had ever seen. One by one fire, water, air, earth and lightning were reflected by the shield. She didn't just block them; the orange scroll actually shot back to its conjurer any jutsu cast upon it, just as long as Ayako could maintain the chakra cost.

The clones each had their own techniques turned upon them, and those that weren't killed Ayako quickly finished off with a snappy blue and a blinding red. Those remaining ploughed towards them in a panic. Kazuya drew his sword and got to work, slicing and dicing everything that got in his path without even needing to fall back on the Jikogan. Through the tunnel in the flames more and more enemies poured towards them. At close range Ayako had been all but useless in her days as a Genin. Now things were different.

She held up her hands, shading from another of the secondary scrolls she'd recently acquired. This time she never compressed a blob in her palms though; instead she manipulated the colour to spread around her body. Misty tracks of green chakra formed around her wrists and ankles before clinging to the backs of her legs and arms. A single clap forced it to materialise.

"_Green!_"

Shielding yellow mixed with the spiked chakra of Ayako's blue to solidify, forming the armoured look of the green. Blades sharp as steel coated the backs of her legs and forearms, ending in solid rings encasing her wrists and ankles from which sprouted vicious-looking sets of two foot claws. From there, Ayako could join her teammate in the savage melee that took place.

She lunged into the fray, thrusting both sets of claws through the chest of her first victim before whirling round in a high kick that decapitated a second. Puffs of smoke went up so fast that from airborne the ground could be mistaken for an active volcanic site; Ayako and Kazuya ploughed through the ranks, leading the charge, hacking left and right through the legion of clones that charged through the blaze.

Being his preferred range, Kazuya undoubtedly killed more, but that didn't stop Ayako from showing the amateurs a thing or two about combat. As she slashed her way through clones the blood of her enemies splashed across her Chunin flak jacket, dyed yellow and blue – and now stained with crimson as penance for her attacks. Using the edge behind her forearm Ayako batted away the shuriken thrown by the incoming ninja, then ducked under the wild swing of his haymaker and then put an end to him by ramming her bladed elbow into his chest.

Smoke from his vanishing body clouded her view, though she still managed to clap off an orange just in time to reflect another barrage of fire from the next wave. She held her ground and prepared to fight once again; Kazuya though, had a better idea.

The samurai waited until the clones were at full sprint – just about to engage them – before he formed hand signs and pointed at the ground. In a simple move he glazed over the ground with a single, unbroken sheet of solid ice. Dashing at full speed meant the clones skidded and tripped instantly, running right into the edge of Kazuya's sword or toppling into a kick from the sharp talons of Ayako's green. When the rest of the battalion followed suit not a single member of the Cloud was lost.

And so once more Ayako and Kazuya found themselves waiting for the next horde of clones to come rushing like morons through the funnel of flames, only this time Ayako refused to simply let them come. The moment she spied the shadows of running figures over the burning grassland she drew back her hands and cupped them together in a tight ball.

Purple from her last scroll flowed like a river into her palms. She pressed down a little to keep it under control, but once she maintained it the girl clapped her hands and fired her devastating attack.

"_Violet!_" A beam rocketed forth from her hands, purple and swimming with explosive, volatile chakra as the already-melting ice beneath them shifted, reflecting its hue around the clearing. She poured it into the hole amidst the flames, smiling when she heard at least four more eruptions of smoke go off one at a time.

Shoryu's voice through her radio startled Ayako suddenly. "_We've got them on the ropes,_" he said. "_Yuudai, take your best men and get rid of the fire – once it's clear the vanguard should be able to advance and finish them off_."

"_Roger that,_" replied Yuudai.

Almost as soon as the command was given Ayako and Kazuya both noticed Yuudai rushing forward to their left. With him joined another dozen or so water wielders, and with a few hand signs apiece the unit got to work on extinguishing the flames that held back the force.

Yuudai's job as always was incredible; from just the moisture in the earth and his own chakra the eighteen year old could practically summon a tsunami. His natural amount of inherent chakra was enough to make even the most elite ninja envious. Along with his crew it took the man about thirty seconds to wash away Kyoh's impressive barrier, thirty seconds in which Kazuya and Ayako stood patiently in wait.

During that time another clone rushed virtually unscathed through the flames. He was rotund and tall, barrelling towards them with little or no regard for his own safety and swinging a six foot, double-breasted axe over his head. Clearly this man was intended as a kamikaze run – he could absorb damage like a sponge until he died and his chaotic tendencies meant he'd take a great many ninja with him before he fell. Unfortunately he didn't even manage a single kill.

As Kazuya reached for his sword the dark haired figure of Hoshi stepped out in front of him. Like a true ninja he'd never seen her arrive and had scarcely noticed her on the battlefield up until now, but this was her element, so he decided to keep his weapon sheathed and leave her to it.

The three hundred pound clone thundered forwards with a mighty, two handed swing – one that was easily blocked by the Cloud Chunin. Hoshi held up a single fist, and despite the metric tonne of force smashing down on her the kunoichi's fist never moved an inch. The axe failed to break even the first layer of skin; it slowed to a stop the moment she cried out:

"_Castoff!_"

Kazuya never got used to seeing the girl's left arm swell, engorging itself to unbelievable sizes as she absorbed every ounce of the momentum. It wasn't a gender thing either – those muscles would look just as ugly on a man, but he couldn't deny that the Kinetic Absorption technique was amongst the most impressive he'd ever seen.

"_Transfer!_" Just as always the left arm shrank back to its usual size with the right arm taking its place. Hoshi geared it back and swung with all her strength.

"_Displace!_" When she struck the troll of a ninja every ounce of his own force in addition to her own was poured right back against him. The giant slash of his axe shot from her blunt fist and cleaved him from shoulder to clavicle, with the sudden impact hurtling him back through the vanishing flames in a haze of smoke.

Hoshi turned and looked back to Kazuya and Ayako as behind her Kyoh's great wall of fire became no more. She drew a trio of shuriken and prepared to fire, though a warning hand from the samurai told her not to bother – he could do far more damage in this situation.

When the barrier of dragon's fire was no more it left behind a rapidly fleeting mist, just as candles or flames become when suddenly snuffed out. Not only did it create a fog to blind their enemies to their movements, but to Kazuya it also made a valuable weapon. He used it in conjunction with Yuudai all the time – smoke and mist was simply vapour that Yuudai had no trouble creating, and vapour was simply water that Kazuya had no trouble freezing.

He cast ten hand signs, altering the amount and order to make up for the wide radius he'd have to encompass and the force at which he'd propel them. Once done, Kazuya clapped into the final seal and let his work materialise. He'd never performed this trick on such a level before, though his high level of chakra control meant that he could do so without too big a loss to his energy.

"_Ice Style: Razor Hail Jutsu!_" At the samurai's command the mist was compressed into over a thousand tiny little fragments of razor-sharp icicles. Applying force to his jutsu meant that they sped towards the clones like bullets, burying themselves in the flesh of the opposing army and wiping out half of whatever remained of the first row. The jutsu also provided the perfect opening in which to attack: the second, third, fourth and fifth rows scattered, scrambling to safety.

"_I'm going in!_" Shoryu's voice sounded again, "_Charge!_"

Shoryu's word was the only encouragement they needed to assure them that the battle was theirs. Ayako and Hoshi turned back to ranks of countless ninja and spurred them forward; they led the charge over the blackened three metres of grass. Kazuya remained still as the army passed him though – he'd catch up in no time.

Twenty peculiar hand signs later and he was ready; at the Chunin Exams fifteen had been the limit of what he could conceivably maintain his dojutsu for during extended periods of time, but since then Kazuya's power had grown. His eyes flashed open to a spiral formation as the world slowed down around him.

"_Jikogan!_" he said aloud.

Kazuya then set off at a sprint, overtaking whole legions in a matter of seconds and darting through the narrow crook between Ayako and Hoshi to the head of the vanguard. Faster than any he broke rank and streamed forward; the samurai slammed into the frontline just as Kyoh crashed into the army some ten rows ahead. Hacking, slashing, spinning and kicking, Kazuya made his way through the horde of Genjutsu-possessed clones towards Shoryu.

Shoryu sprang from the saddle in one great bound and hurtled to the centre of the enemy army. With swords harnessing the power of wind he spun a full circle to clear space and repelled enemies from there. He'd slash apart a single clone before whirling round and blasting another with an Air Slash from a single swing of his sword, repeating the process until Kazuya rushed into the clearing to join him.

With enemies surrounding them on all sides the odds seemed stacked against the duo. Kazuya slowed down his dojutsu momentarily. A year prior, he learned a trick whereby he could temporarily return to a normal state, saving his chakra and allowing him to whir back to full speed without repeating the same process of complex hand signs. He used it to throw off and confuse more powerful enemies in battle, but mostly it was utilised for more practical applications; slowing down the Jikogan allowed him to hear and speak to others properly.

As the corners of his eyes turned to tiny red arrows the samurai began, pressing his back to Shoryu's at the centre of the circle. "Well at least you made it."

Shoryu grinned. "What, you're going all out? Well if I want to keep up I guess I'd better do the same! _Kyoh!_"

Not five metres away the dragon thrashed and kicked and breathed intense waves of flames over his own opponents. Upon Shoryu's call though, Kyoh immediately turned his summoner's way and exhaled his fierce blast towards the pair of them. Shoryu held his swords up before the inferno; being coated with oil meant they absorbed the fire, and being fuelled by wind meant the flames almost doubled in size.

Shoryu brandished the two blades, set alight with four foot torches that left afterimages in their wake. He called this mode his 'Fire Sabers', the most powerful state he could augment his swords to. In this form the Air Slashes sent out were burning and substantially larger, and the size of the technique meant that he could swing and miss with the metal blade, yet still catch an enemy with the extended blaze protruding from it.

As Kazuya's eyes blinked back to the twenty-sign speed he and Shoryu got to work. Swords flourished in near-perfect synchronism as they darted back and forth around the small circular clearing. They repelled the army of amateurs whilst watching the back of the other; any time they saw a foe approach from the back of the other a swift blast of fire or ice would send them into smoke within moments.

"_Playback Two!_"

A recorded copy of Kazuya rushed out of his body, releasing a giant Cryo Blast Stream behind him to finish off another band of clones. Experimenting with the technique allowed the samurai to come to some rather interesting findings that he worked into his favour. The process of creating a Playback involved recording oneself using the Jikogan and replaying that moment, but he quickly found that it was a system ripe for exploiting.

For starters, Kazuya found that if he began recording _after _he'd formed hand signs then the result would be the same. His Playback charged out a Cryo Blast without taking even a single moment to pull off the usual three-hand sign requirement, meaning it was much faster than him doing it personally.

Secondly, no matter what the recording entailed, Playbacks always used up a fixed amount of chakra – somewhere between a C and a B-Rank technique. If he were to replay, say, an A or an S-Rank technique, it would be no different for expending energy than replaying the most basic jutsu. Using this to his advantage, Kazuya could spend little chakra whilst repeating the same devastating moves that would tire him out in most cases.

Even so, moving at such speeds and focusing so many techniques ate away at their chakra like a starved dog wolfing up its first meal in weeks; Shoryu often compared this form of ultra-intense combat to be like watching the fuse of a bomb slowly fizzle out, and if it ever reached the end they risked dying of exhaustion.

Fortunately their hectic back-and-forth dashing was quickly brought to a halt. A clone leapt out from the fray towards Shoryu right as the boy turned towards him. He moved as fast as his instincts could allow, hoping to escape with a scrape and nothing more before a blue spear of chakra skewered the clone from temple to temple. Just then the Cloud crashed into the human wall; Ayako, Hoshi and a group of twenty or so others led the charge and managed to bail Shoryu and Kazuya out of the predicament they'd gotten themselves into.

Ayako streamed into the clearing and brutalised a trio of clones. The first ran into the green blade on her elbow and the second was decapitated by one from a spinning heel kick. The third was then dispatched as the kunoichi clapped and forced a glowing red straight into his face. Her face and clothes were smeared with the blood of her enemies – it noticeably streaked down her cheek and stained drops across her neck. Shoryu was forever at a loss on whether he found the sight utterly terrifying or surprisingly sexy.

"I was just about to finish that one you know," he said with a grin.

"Oh I'll bet you were. You wouldn't survive ten seconds without me!"

"Maybe you're right." Shoryu laughed. "Ready to finish this?"

Ayako responded only with a smile and a wink, widening Shoryu's boyish grin. As the human stampede continued to mercilessly wipe out the enemy army he cut himself a few rows ahead to get to Kyoh. The dragon had a few scales dinged, and a couple of shuriken had pierced his soft underside, though he didn't seem to mind; quite the contrary actually.

Kyoh loved battle and challenge even more than Shoryu or Kazuya. Any kind of opportunity to test his limits and he'd take it without question, throwing himself into the thick of battle in a fit of manic bloodlust if it suited him.

Shoryu leapt back into the saddle and reared up the raging beast. With his neck towering over any man or woman Kyoh expelled a burst of napalm at the army and dashed through the force of clones when joined by the charging Division Two. The vanguard surged in total abandon; the sounds of fists, shuriken and swords meeting flesh filled the air, jutsu of all different kinds met the clones, creatures were summoned, and all the while the roars of bloodthirsty fighters cried across the plain.

It became a short-lived rampage as the clone army was crushed under the heels of the ninja. Kazuya, Ayako and Shoryu upon Kyoh were the first to emerge from the other side of the force and back onto open ground. In front of them at least fifty were scattered across the field, fleeing the scene, but the battalion itself was completely dead.

With a great tug of the reins Shoryu spurred the dragon to the skies. At forty metres high they hovered; Kyoh fanned out his wings to full size and unleashed one final show of dazzling fire. As the dragon roared a primal, victorious noise its rider pointed both swords to the sky. His call – one powerful word in his most commanding voice – received the energetic response from the masses worthy of a war hero.

"_VICTORY!_"

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hiii O.O So it's been four years, making Shoryu, Kazuya and Ayako seventeen – officially older than the current Naruto! And Reizo is the Eleventh Raikage (okay who didn't see that coming?). The characters seem to have adopted a kind of status that Tsunade, Jiraiya and Orochimaru had in the third war and they've changed quite a bit since we last saw them.

Ayako got a little fiercer it seems. She certainly hauls a hell of a lot more ass. Now she can use secondary colours to improve her overall power with a deflection ability! . . And apparently the claws from Ninja Gaiden. . . And apparently the Kamehameha. Anyway after primary colours it was the logical step forward and it's been foreshadowed a little already – when we first saw Ayako's father it was mentioned that he too had _six _scrolls as opposed to her usual three. See? I plan this stuff! :D

There's also a bit more romance going on between her and Shoryu than there was before. They're not technically dating or anything because they're at war, but there's kind of a silent agreement between the two that they're steadily acknowledging.

Kazuya meanwhile still seems as cool as ever despite the change in his looks and the fact that he got married to Fujiko, although he seems to have totally accepted the ways of the ninja after being surrounded by them for so long. He uses the Playback function of the Jikogan to his advantage and comes up with craftier uses of the ice style. Plus his rivalry with Shoryu has reached more ridiculous levels, but that was bound to happen.

Of the three of them though, Shoryu has probably changed the most over the course of adolescence, as you might be able to tell. He'll always be snarky, cynical and witty, but in the first volume those traits always came across as more of a front to conceal his deep-rooted insecurities and self-perceived weakness – he was always just putting on a brave face.

Now though, those insecurities are just gone. He's brimming with confidence, he's charismatic and he's sure of himself. He's powerful and he knows he's earned it, with his own jutsu for wind techniques and a damn fire breathing _dragon_ at his back for support. He's pretty much just expanded on what he already had, only on a higher level. He also learned the Flying Swallow (Asuma's signature jutsu) to augment his swords with wind. If he had a rematch with Kouta now he'd annihilate him in seconds with that technique, and that's even without Kyoh's help to make them even stronger.

And of course there's a new picture up to show off his development. There's no way I can be modest about this – he looks awesome – it genuinely appears as if he's aged four years whilst still looking like the same character. He looks like the manga/anime protagonist I set out to create and I think the image pretty much fits the playful character I've always tried to describe (as opposed to the kinda mopey looking original one).

I know the links for Shoryu and Kazuya didn't work for some people before but they're fixed now, unfortunately the site decided to totally disable hyperlinks so you'll have to copy and paste the urls to see them. It's totally worth it though.

It's on my profile as always. There's something very Naruto-esque about new Shoryu but I can't put my finger on it. Might have to draw his armoured look at some point, but it's Kazuya next time. There should also be a map soon of which countries command which regions. The Land of Lightning own the Snow and the Hot Water etc. Anyway this chapter was more of a whole 'how they're getting on' type thing, so stay tuned for chapter 25 when the plot kick-starts again.


	25. Chapter 25 Wait, What?

Chapter 25: "Wait, what?"

Kazuya mumbled a groan as he unbuckled the straps of his armour to loosen up. With the tightness across his chest, ankles and wrists gone he made his way through the legion over to his friends. Fingers of blood trailed from a nasty cut on his cheek and his leg felt as though he'd twisted it during the mayhem, but for the most part the samurai had escaped the battle relatively unharmed.

Plotting his way through the Cloud army, Kazuya was as polite as ever. He gave nods, handshakes and slaps on the shoulder to his fellow ninja until he reached the leading troop. Shoryu still felt the adrenaline.

"And then I got him, _bang! _Right between the eyes with a shuriken – and then Kyoh finished the other," he was saying.

Ayako gave a laugh. "I'd say you need to be more careful, if I thought you'd ever listen to a word I say, that is."

"Oh I don't know, I'm sure there're _some _things you could persuade me to do," Shoryu said, grinning.

The girl gave him a playful shove as Kazuya fell into step beside them. Instantly Shoryu turned to his friend and clasped his forearm in greeting, still pleased about the outcome of the battle. And of course, he was as competitive as he'd ever been.

"Final score?" he asked.

Kazuya sighed. "I told you, I'm not playing this."

"Oh come on! Don't be like that! How many?"

Seeing that Shoryu wouldn't take no for an answer, Kazuya had no choice but to reply. "Forty nine."

The young commander hissed as though some painful would had stricken him. "Ooh, forty eight for me. You win this round I guess. I suppose that takes our overall score-"

"I'm not playing," affirmed Kazuya.

"-up to sixteen wins for me, fifteen for you."

"It's sixteen all!"

"_Aha!_ So you are keeping track!"

Kazuya cursed under his breath; how he'd so easily fallen for such an obvious ruse after four years of putting up with Shoryu was beyond him. As the commander proved, he _was _keeping score. In fact Kazuya took the rivalry just as seriously as Shoryu did, but pretending that he didn't allowed him to keep that cool, focused façade that he'd tried so hard to maintain. He'd be Taisho in less than a year – he told himself over and over that he had to snap out of these childish games, yet despite his best efforts he never could.

After slipping his chubby body through the waves of friendly ninja Jinga suddenly arrived. As he joined them he carried a clipboard, panting after his jog to keep up with the fast-paced walking of the team.

"Total success Shoryu," he said. "Our smaller units are weeding out the stragglers now – only one or two dozen of them escaped."

"The clones kill themselves the moment we capture them. We can't get any intel on them but at least it stops them reporting on us," said Ayako.

As he undid the straps of his own armour Shoryu replied, "How many casualties?"

"Seventy three, and another ten unaccounted for," read Jinga.

Shoryu bowed his head and shook it in disappointment. After being alongside him for so long Kazuya had quickly realised that the boy's biggest annoyance was losing men. When they were under his command Shoryu took full responsibility for the lives of the Cloud's ninja, and hearing the sheer amount of fallen never failed to induce guilt on his part.

"Not good enough," he said. "We need to redouble our efforts."

"Come on Shoryu, we were outnumbered and we lost less than a tenth of our force! That's incredible no matter how you look at it!" offered Yuudai. Kazuya silently agreed that the man had a point; people died in war, and Shoryu had to learn to accept that no battle would be without losses. Then again, the samurai had been trained in the art of war since the age of five, and he also knew that simply observing and actually commanding were two different things. Were he in Shoryu's position, he wasn't sure he'd handle it any differently.

"I suppose you're right," Shoryu finally managed. "In the meantime, Hoshi, could you send for reinforcements from the village? I don't like having an incomplete division. The Mist is planning something big, I just know it."

"I know what you mean, I'll get right on it," replied the girl. With a respectful nod she broke off from the line and headed back through the crowd.

Another thing Kazuya detected about his partner was that Shoryu always preferred the same company. Despite leading the whole of Division Two and having at least eight Jonin under his influence, Shoryu always stuck to keeping the old Squads Five and Thirteen around as his consultants. They were the only ones who managed to be informal with him – the only ninja in Division Two who addressed him by his name instead of 'sir' or 'commander'.

Of course, that didn't stop the five of them from treating him as such, but his personal attachment to them allowed them to speak freely. They followed orders, though if Shoryu made a bad call they'd tell him about it instead of skirting around the issue.

"Anything else you need?" asked Jinga, easily the most formal.

"How many have we got wounded?" said Shoryu.

"Mmm." The man made a face in calculation. "I'd say about a hundred."

"Then do what you can for them. Don't push it too hard though, you're low on chakra as it is."

"Sure thing."

As Jinga fell out of line another ninja rushed to fill his place. This one was masked, though clearly a young man based on what features they could make out. Kazuya had seen him around regularly; he couldn't place a name to the face, but he knew the man was responsible for communications and relaying messages amongst Division Two. The samurai had never had the opportunity to speak to him until today, because instead of addressing the commander, this time the ninja wanted him.

"Sir? Mr. Takashi?" he asked.

"It's just Kazuya."

"Right. Well Kazuya, the ambassadors you requested just arrived. They're waiting for you at the eastern outpost."

At the startling news the samurai stopped in his tracks. He'd been waiting over a month. So long had passed since he wrote that letter that he was beginning to wonder if he'd hear any response at all. He figured they'd contact him back, but to just show up so suddenly? Samurai certainly did have strange methods.

"It's about time," he grumbled eventually. Kazuya cut ahead of the group and began towards the outpost until Shoryu's call made him turn back.

"Hey." The commander grinned. "Good luck bro."

The samurai nodded in reply and continued on ahead. Before him stretched out hundreds of tents, all of them different sizes and varying shades of tan to blend in with their surroundings. Three outposts were visible already, with another one far to the north and a fifth as a scouting unit to the south.

The main camp however, sat in the crook of a high-backed, three hundred foot tall cliff whose instability and sharp edges made it nigh-impossible to scale. There was only one way through it, a hidden passage tight enough for only a single man to squeeze through whenever they needed to relay commands to the northern sentries.

Aside from this minor detail Division Two's base of operations was almost impregnable. Guards were stationed constantly at the southern entrance, and the protective embrace of the cliffs prevented attacks from every other compass direction. It reminded Kazuya of his home – back in the Glacier where a similar rock formation kept them safe. As he was about to be reminded though, many samurai relied too heavily on these defences of the Glacial Drop.

He threw back the tarp of the eastern outpost and entered. The outposts were generally the largest tents in the entire divisions, normally encompassing spaces bigger than houses even without the awnings that sprouted from every side.

He smelt the pig before he noticed it, spinning in cook on a spit-roast at the centre of the opening. With every rotation shadows quilted the warm orange glow that bathed the depths of the outpost. Ninja sat back and enjoyed the spoils upon the benches. Some were blood-soaked Genin celebrating their first victory over alcohol, whilst a few others were Jonin who clearly hadn't even taken part in the fight.

A Genin called out Kazuya's name and ushered him towards one of the awnings, where only two men of broad shoulder and confident stature awaited him. The Genin left, though Kazuya would've preferred to have him present. He was left alone with the pair of much older, more experienced veterans with little cheer and even less of a sense of humour.

They were muscle-bound, clad in vivid red armour comprised of thick plates of steel. Katana hung from their belts, silver and sparkling in the dull candles the room had to spare. Though their facial structure and physique showed they were clearly related, one of the men was white haired like Kazuya, the other being jet black, both tied into top-knots.

Kazuya's attitude hardened immediately. He was cool and callous with his friends, but addressing these men called for a whole new level of total authority. They were samurai of his village, serving as ambassadors that he'd requested. Kazuya paced around the room and thrust out his chest, like an impatient parent giving a lecture. These weren't ninja – if he slacked off even momentarily around them he could lose their respect forever.

"So you're finally here," he began, trying his best to appear unimpressed. "I was beginning to wonder if you even received my message."

"Apologies young master. There were matters back home that called for our immediate attention," said the black haired veteran.

"This should've been more immediate; no excuses Abo," replied Kazuya.

The man recoiled, impressed that the future Taisho remembered his name. In truth Kazuya had made it one of his top priorities to remember the names of every man, woman and child in the village, along with their roles and specialities. He figured that his followers connecting with their leader on a personal level would make them trust him more.

"Yes my lord, apologies again," stammered Abo, placing his fist in his hand and bowing. The formalities were just a courtesy. Kazuya wasn't in charge just yet, meaning they could address him however they chose. For now they chose to be polite, though Kazuya doubted they'd stay that way for long.

"Forget it. I trust my appeal reached the Taisho. Has Bishamon reconsidered his decision?"

This time the snowy haired samurai took his turn to speak. Kazuya knew his name was Dogen, one of his father in-law's most trusted councillors. The look on his face was grave, and before he even opened his mouth the young lord knew that this news wasn't what he'd hoped for.

"He hasn't I'm afraid. I'm sorry Kazuya, but there's just no way the samurai can get involved in this war."

"Idiot!" Kazuya shouted. The two men recoiled when he pounded a fist upon the wooden unit, causing sparks to fly from the candles resting atop it. Somehow he knew it would come to this; the samurai of the Glacier would never team up with the Cloud's shinobi. Any form of alliance was beyond them. Even if it was the most logical, rational decision to make they still wouldn't budge. "How is that his decision?" he demanded.

"Young master, we've only just got the village stable again. We can't risk it," said Abo.

Kazuya became livid. "Risk what exactly? We're out here fighting for our lives and our possession of the Land of Hot Water weakens by the day. Between Water, Earth and these damn clones we'll lose it by the end of the month, and then we'll lose the Land of Snow before long. _Then _they'll be right on your doorstep – the moment they enter our own country you'll be the first clan they come across. And then what? You expect the ninja to come to your aid after you refuse to help us?"

"Bishamon believes that the Glacial Drop will keep us safe and hidden," revealed Dogen. "And even if they do make it down, we'll crush them within our own walls."

Kazuya snorted a laugh. He understood that the Taisho was simply doing what he thought was best for his people, but what he thought was wrong. If the Glacier didn't contribute warriors to the war then they'd be wiped out in a heartbeat when a Stone, Mist or clone army crossed the borders. It was only a matter of time. With a force so massive they'd be hard pressed to miss a village of the Glacier's size. They might lose a few hundred on the Glacial Drop, of that he was certain, but such numbers were paltry to their kind of military power.

"They'll find the village, make no mistake of that," Kazuya said.

"Then we shall overpower them."

"With what? The Village Hidden in the Glacier has scarcely fifty warriors. You're comparing that to a force of fifty _thousand_ ninja? Those will be the numbers facing you. You won't make even a dent; your lives will mean nothing. I won't stand by whilst my home gets burned, or whilst the supposed 'warriors' of the Takashi clan dodge out of a war just because of some conflicting ideologies with ninja. If you don't want to fight with them, so be it – fight with me in Division Two."

Abo cleared his throat, obviously irked by the jape Kazuya made at their expense. "The Taisho has made his decision clear. The ninja got themselves into this war. They can get themselves out."

"How can you say that? After everything I've done for the village?" Kazuya had to fight his instincts to stop himself from drawing his sword in anger. "If I hadn't joined the ninja then the clan would be on the brink of extinction right now. _Their _funds paid for our prosperity."

"Perhaps, but it would be foolish to exchange a few years of good fortune for centuries of discrepancies with the shinobi. Bishamon has great faith in you Kazuya, but personally I must ask: are you a samurai first, or a ninja?"

"A samurai of course," replied Kazuya. It wasn't even a question – he said it without thinking.

"Then you will respect your lord's decision, at least until you are in the position to make the orders."

Kazuya muttered, swearing. It wasn't as if he hadn't considered it; in half a year he'd be eighteen and would take over as Taisho, and with that title he'd have the power to command the samurai. They'd follow him into war without question when that time arrived, but there were two problems with that plan. First of all he wasn't even sure that they had six months left – they could be totally overrun by that time.

The second one bothered him more though: they'd do as he commanded, but if he forced them to go to war when they didn't want to then his integrity would be in question. The samurai wouldn't respect him at all. Leading an army whose soldiers held nothing but disdain for him was the worst idea he could think of. More important than anything, he had to make them see _why_ going to war was necessary. Only then could he order them to do so.

The argument between the three samurai continued. Kazuya even continued to protest once he realised that his words made little difference and that these individuals had no control over the Glacier's forces. He pointed out that the samurai of the Iron had already joined forces with the Leaf, to which Abo and Dogen replied by saying that one clan's actions do not sway another's.

Kazuya continued venting his frustrations at them for a full two hours; by the time he'd finished hot wax flooded the plates of the slow-burning candles. There was nothing he could do, but that didn't calm his anger. Worse still was the fact that he knew deep down, if he hadn't joined the ninja his attitudes would be the same as theirs. He'd be just as blind as the rest of them. Samurai saw things in black and white, offering little logic or rationale when it came to their honour.

As much as he swore to be a samurai first Kazuya suddenly began to doubt his own words.

When every valid, sensible point he could think of was countered with honour the future Taisho gave up. Bitterly he thanked his two councillors for their presence and wished them a safe journey home. He made his way back through the tent – past the table of drunken ninja – and back out into the open air.

The Land of Hot Water was nice this time of year. A warm breeze caressed the grass and gently stroked the samurai's face as he composed himself outside. In just a few seconds he'd slowed his breathing and centred his mind, unclenching his fists for the first time in an hour and watching the waning sun fade to orange. Only then did an unseen pair of hands slap over his eyes.

"Surprise!"

Agile as a cat Kazuya tore away the hands, whirled around and drew his hand back to his weapon. He hated people invading his personal space – even Shoryu could only get away with so much, but there was one person with whom he became totally unguarded. And here she stood, a black satin dress to match her hair, smiling sweetly as though she'd done no wrong.

"Fujiko! What're you doing he-"

But the young lord's demands were cut short as his wife strode forward and pulled him into a deep kiss. Whatever anger he felt suddenly vanished along with all the stress of the day's battle. As their lips finally parted he released a long, drawn-out exhale, like he'd been holding his breath for months on end. Their eyes met, and with one look she forced a smile out of him.

"Fujiko. . ." he said again, his voice softer this time. "You know you're not supposed to be here. If Bishamon knew I'd brought you into a warzone he'd kill me."

She remained in his embrace, fluttering her eyelids. "Come on, my father thinks of you as a son, you couldn't do any wrong as far as he's concerned."

"Maybe, but still. . ."

Again Kazuya was silenced by Fujiko giving him a light peck. He smiled and held her close; he couldn't stay mad at her for long, but she couldn't stay here - it was too dangerous. Through the opening in the tent the troop of Genin released wolf-whistles, and once the other ninja walking about the camp caught on they too began to stop, hollering and clapping.

"_Go on lad!_" cheered an especially loud one.

"Come on Fujiko," Kazuya laughed, "you're embarrassing me."

"Oh alright." Finally the young woman released him, taking his hand as they strolled about the camp.

They talked for a while, Fujiko sympathising with his ploy to the clan as she asked him how the war fared. She worried for his safety just as any partner should, especially when he told her they were steadily losing ground, but asking him to pull out of the war was strictly forbidden by samurai code. Instead she could only ask him to be careful and keep his friends close.

Through their conversation Kazuya learned that the six months they'd spent apart had been decidedly less exciting for Fujiko. She'd spent most of it harvesting crops, making clothes and weaving baskets with her sisters. The only thing of any special interest came when she revealed that preparations for his promotion to Taisho had just about gotten underway. It would be a spectacular event, hosting thousands of people from all over the land.

Again Fujiko asked him about their progress into determining the cause of and how to stop the Fifth Shinobi World War, to which he lamented that they hadn't. He'd confided in her long ago the three final words spoken by the Tenth Raikage that Reizo had told Squad Thirteen. 'Senmatsu' was Kazuya's family name, the 'Jikogan' was his Dojutsu, and whatever the 'Alpha Gene' was, it remained a mystery.

How these terms linked to the clones and their masters they still had no idea, but Kazuya knew that he didn't like the implications. It seemed more and more likely that his father had been a part of whatever group controlled them, and there still existed many samurai who believe a man inherits the shame of the sins of his parents.

They'd kept the knowledge that Kira Asakura had been the mole in the five Kage to themselves. Telling other countries would be a naïve mistake. They could use it to try and stop the war, claiming that outside forces had been influencing the old Raikage, but what good would that do? They had little proof, and it was plausible that whoever cast the Genjutsu upon him was also from the Land of Lightning himself.

Informing other countries of Kira's actions would only put the Cloud in the sights of every other Kage. They might stop a war, but they'd induce a massacre. The Village Hidden in the Cloud and all its inhabitants would be destroyed before the year's end. As such, Reizo judged that it was better to disperse the pain equally amongst the five nations; at least then they had some hope of finding those truly responsible and stopping the war before any lasting damage was done to the world.

As the sun began to set Fujiko began to ask Kazuya about his friends and how they had been getting on. At this the young samurai became suspicious; never once had she appeared interested in them, in fact something about this whole encounter just didn't add up. Why visit him here and now? If she had survived six months without him surely she could last another half-year for his ceremony, couldn't she?

When they were alone Kazuya rounded on his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders, eyes narrowing. "What's this all about anyway?" he asked her directly. "There's something you're not telling me."

Fujiko gave a bashful look at the ground and shuffled her feet awkwardly. Kazuya lifted her chin to meet his gaze, earning a twitch of a smile and a wink from her. After a few moments she leaned forward, giggling, and whispered something in his ear.

Kazuya's eyes suddenly widened, stricken with a dumb, perplexed expression of paramount confusion. "Wait, what?"

* * *

Shoryu and Ayako were already three drinks in when Kazuya came strolling into the young commander's tent. He was significantly paler than usual, as rigid as a board with eyes like a startled hare. He seized the plain looking bottle of sake and poured himself a cup before downing it in one giant gulp. Only then did he take a seat.

"Whoa, Kazuya drinking? I thought you were the law-upholding type?" said Ayako, lounged back on a purple cushion.

The night was young and both Shoryu and Ayako knew all too well of their responsibilities; the alcohol was simply a celebratory tradition to take the edge off after a battle – no one had too much. It simply lifted their spirits and made them merry.

Lain out before Shoryu was a precise three-dimensional map of their surrounding landscapes, complete with white blocks that signified their own units and reds for the enemy. The map was for creating formations and tactics, though Shoryu prodded absently at it with the fancy stick that came with it, swinging it around like a sword.

"It's legal with an adult, and I know you got this from Watari or whatever his name is." said Kazuya.

"But he's not here now," said Shoryu.

"I'm still older than you."

"By like two weeks!"

"Still counts." Kazuya poured himself another and went slower this time. He eased comfortably into a seat and tried desperately to steady his breathing. Despite any meditative training, this time it wouldn't stop. His heart pounded like a drum in his chest, loud enough that he could hear it without stopping to listen. Ayako topped him up once he'd finished, speaking over the pouring of the rice-wine.

"You going to tell us what happened or do we have to guess?" she said.

Kazuya shook his head, bracing himself to relay the news. "I just spoke with Fujiko."

"Fujiko?" Shoryu narrowed his eyes. "She's here? I haven't seen her in years, what did she need?"

"Well," said Kazuya, "It turns out she's. . . She's um." He faltered, lingering over the reality of his own words. "She's. . ."

"Oh! I love this game!" mocked Shoryu, launching his hand to the air. "She's insane! No, no, that's stupid. She's leaving you! No, she's contracted a dangerous infect-"

"She's pregnant."

"Pregnant! Yeah! That was my next guess!" Shoryu chuckled to himself until the gravity of what Kazuya revealed suddenly hit him. "Wait, what?"

"Was my exact reaction," said the samurai.

"_Pregnant?_" asked Ayako, dumbstruck. "How the hell did that happen?"

"I can show you if you'd like."

"Not what I meant Shoryu!"

Kazuya twiddled his thumbs and looked at the floor. "Well, we _are _a married couple. I'd assume it happened at our wedding six months ago."

"And?" His face sobering, Shoryu poured another two cups and handed one to Kazuya. Even as he drank his frown hardened. "What do you think of it?"

At this the samurai gave one great exhale. "Honestly I'm not too sure. Truth be told I didn't even entertain the possibility of having children at least until this war is over, but it's not a bad thing as long as they stay safe, in fact I might even be excited. No, no," he corrected, "I _am _excited – this is good news. . . Just a lot to take in."

"And the Taisho? Surely Bishamon Takashi won't be thrilled that you knocked up his daughter at seventeen?" said Ayako.

But Kazuya shook his head. "He'll be over the moon actually. Taisho are encouraged to have children as quickly as possible to increase the probability of siring a male heir. Bishamon had five in his prime and ended up with all girls, that's the only reason I was chosen as his successor."

"Well, now that that's settled. . ." Shoryu pointed his cup to the ceiling, flickers of the orange torches playing over the liquid. He prompted the remaining two members of the old Squad Thirteen to do the same, and when they clashed he resumed with, "To Kazuya's unborn child! May he grow up in a world very different to this hellhole."

Once they'd drained their fill – hungrily downing the plentiful sake – the samurai began again. "There was _one _more thing I wanted to ask you two about, whilst we're on the subject."

Shoryu and Ayako traded odd looks, but said nothing and allowed their friend to continue.

"Fujiko has few friends of real connection back in the village, and I don't think she's ever been on great terms with her sisters. I asked her about this and she said it would be okay, but it's really your choice. I won't force you into anything; I'm just throwing it out there."

The two rocked forward in their seats, interested.

"How would you like to be godparents?"

Shoryu almost fell from his chair when that last word rang true. Ayako sat and gasped; clearly Kazuya had put much thought into this – he wouldn't have proposed it unless he was sure. Unfortunately the samurai had always kept the two of them – even Shoryu – at arm's length. They'd never been able to confirm just how much they meant to him until he spelled it out officially.

This wasn't a decision one took lightly. If they accepted, and if, god forbid, anything happened to Kazuya and Fujiko, protection of the child would fall to Shoryu and Ayako. They weren't even a couple. One was still a big kid and the other dreamed for the highest, busiest position the world had to offer, so what did they know of raising an infant? Yet in spite of that Kazuya still seemed to think it was a good idea. It was an honour to be asked such a question, and both had every confidence that the young samurai wasn't about to die any time soon.

"Are you serious?" said Shoryu.

"Yes."

"Hmm." The young commander scratched his stubbly chin. "Can I sleep on it? – _OW!_"

Ayako cut him off with a smack to the back of his head, sending his empty cup clattering to his little strategic map. He laughed and retrieved it before settling back into the chair.

"He's being an idiot," said the girl. "Of course we will."

"Thank you."

Another half an hour passed with refreshments and merriments in celebration of a new upcoming member to their odd little makeshift family. More food and drink was consumed by the minute, and before long the tent was alive with several more candles coupled with the sound of music. Getting Kazuya to sing was always a rare occurrence so uncommon that it had become virtually mythical, but it didn't sound half bad when coupled with Shoryu's flute - it too was from the Village Hidden in the Glacier after all.

By the time fatigue began to replace the elation Squad Thirteen were already feeling the effects of mild intoxication. Seeing how close they were, Kazuya decided to bid Shoryu and Ayako goodnight, not wanting to intrude. He needed to get back to his tent anyway, where Fujiko waited for him to return with the good news.

He'd already lifted up the flap of Shoryu's tent and cast a swift wave in their direction when a noise pierced the silence. At close to midnight the camp was quiet, with nine out of ten ninja retiring early after the hard day. The eerie still of the night made the ear-splitting scream all the more noticeable: the howling wail of a man's final noise echoed loudly through the entire camp.

Another one cried out, and then another, but by then Shoryu had already snatched up his swords and dashed out with Ayako into the open. One by one the torches of small tents lit up like fireflies to see the commotion, only to realise that the screams came from the western side of the Cloud's army. Atop the outpost Kazuya looked for the claxon call of the ninja on guard duty, but none came.

They understood why immediately, as even from afar the samurai could make out the blood-smeared opening of the straw door hanging limply from its hinges. They'd been infiltrated – precisely struck in the dead of night. No one had noticed until it was too late. On the other side of the Division the eastern watchtower boomed out its claxon, but by then the whole camp was already aware of the intrusion.

"Look!"

Following Ayako's finger Kazuya's gaze wandered over the western side of the camp, to where the source of commotion came from. Above the clearing of a hundred tents hovered two dozen or so identical summons.

They were falcons, or at least, gargantuan versions of falcons. Each as big and muscular as Kyoh, they treaded the air ominously over the western clearing. If he squinted carefully Kazuya could see rappel lines hanging from their bladed talons and the ninja that hung from them. At first he thought his eyes were deceiving him, but at after a second look he confirmed it: ninja were heading _back _up the lines, and clutched tightly in their arms were the struggling or unconscious forms of familiar Cloud ninja.

The familiar poof of an explosion told him that this was the work of clones, but why? They appeared to be kidnapping people; they'd never done so before, what did they hope to achieve from it? He wondered this as he strung together obtuse hand signs and prepared his eyes for the strain of his fastest run.

As Cloud ninja it was their duty to go over there and repel the invaders, but a much greater duty hung over Kazuya. The sight of more than twenty of those creatures soaring over the western clearing frightened him, for it was within the western side of the camp that his own tent lay, along with Fujiko – his wife and the mother of his unborn child.

"_Jikogan!_"

He set off at a run, leaving Shoryu and Ayako in the dust as he swept across the land like a current of lightning. Dodging and hopping between confused ranks of ninja he picked a course through the menagerie of tents that stood between him and his wife. He heard the distinct, slowed down calls of Shoryu and Ayako behind him, though he paid them little attention. Shoryu might've been his commander, but there wasn't a position in the world that could order him away from this course.

In less than a minute of real-time he'd passed the western outpost. Above him the slow, heavy flaps of the summoned falcons beat down upon his cropped white hair. He darted away from the flying beak of one before continuing forward. The slurred voices and smoky explosions of ninja enclosed him; the camp was in chaos.

How the clones had planned and executed such a flawless attack was beyond him. The precision of such a strike had caught the entirety of Division Two off guard – they'd breached the western flank with a massive force of at least fifty ninja, and before the alarms were raised they'd begun to abduct people one by one. They never struck with such accuracy. Clone armies were normally poor in formation and order - a tactless force that threw its soldiers into battle as though they were disposable. Then again, Kazuya figured clones _were _disposable.

As he leapt over the dying remnants of a fire his landing was met by a ninja in front of him being swept up by a dive-bombing falcon. When his own attack missed the samurai ignored the event and pushed forward, eventually coming to his own tent.

His humble home's state of disorder was proof enough of an outside presence. The torches had been knocked from their sconces and a great slash cut through the opening; Kazuya knew what had happened before he even looked inside.

Sure enough, Fujiko was gone. His open sleeping bag was proof that she'd gone to bed, but there remained no sign of the young samurai's wife. Thankfully, save for the cut across the door, there were no signs of a struggle. There was no blood, kicked over ground or loose pegs; she'd been quickly knocked out and taken just like so many others.

In silent rage Kazuya left his tent and cast his eyes to the sky. The Jikogan scanned over falcon after falcon for any sign of the familiar black dress she'd worn earlier in the evening, but even slowed down the sheer amount of movement going on up there made it nearly impossible to pick out individuals. He spotted the courier who'd picked him up earlier and an older Jonin who'd been caught unawares in the clutches of the summons.

After just a few seconds of looking over the horde Kazuya's eyes locked with another. Riding atop the largest, most overgrown bird of the flock was a woman, blonde haired, tall and lean. She wore a dark jacket complete with countless tool holsters, and emblazoned across the left chest pocket was the familiar violet symbol that he saw daily on Shoryu's own.

However it wasn't the ever-mysterious clan insignia that he first noticed, nor indeed the dark shape of his own wife slung under her arm. What Kazuya saw first was something that made his blood curdle and his heart stop. It was something he'd only ever seen once outside a mirror – the spiral pattern of his eyes that had forever labelled him as unique. She looked his way and smiled that same suggestive sneer that he'd seen on his opponent at the third stage of his Chunin Exams, only this woman was older – at least in her thirties.

As Jikogan met Jikogan Kazuya realised that this woman – the captor of his wife – could only be one person. During their battle Suzume had mentioned that including themselves, the only other people remaining with the dojutsu were her mother and their grandfather. This must've been the former: Madoka Oyama, the sister of Kazuya's very own father. The samurai drew his sword.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Heyhey! Been a while right? To say I've had personal shit to deal with would be an understatement, and to be honest this chapter was a real bitch. So was the picture but eh, what can you do? Should be back on track now.

I think the problem was trying to convey how much the characters have matured without diverging too much that they become altogether different characters. I'm still not sure I did the best job on that, but rest assured there won't be a great many chapters where the trio just sit around and get pissed, especially with stuff like this going on.

And also I'd just like to take a moment to assure you all that this won't turn into some cheesy romance drama with the new pregnancy plot twist. Of course I'm going somewhere with it, but it's never going to take centre stage really. It was just something that's kinda necessary for me to continue. Makes it more dramatic you see.

Anyway despite my complaints I'm liking this new story arc. It's letting me get away from the template of the original Naruto and properly flesh things out. I mean if you think about it Volume One followed pretty much the same formula because as Naruto Part 1 I had to get all that initiation stuff out of the way. It went from graduation, then C-Rank missions, then Chunin exams, then a Kage-level fight.

In Naruto however, after that point the following arcs are about Sasuke's betrayal. Then during Shippuden/Part 2 it's all about the Jinchuriki. I don't plan on having Kazuya turn evil or anything, and there are no more Jinchuriki in Legacies, so naturally I've had to think up of new stuff to push everyone's limits and keep them motivated.

Oh yeah, Kazuya's picture got uploaded too. Looks pretty good if I do say so myself. Took me forever though, one look at it and you might understand why. Must've done three drafts just for the armour alone, and I couldn't just template stuff or get inspiration from other anime/manga because get this, hardly any samurai in anime wear armour! I never realised! Kenshin doesn't wear any, none of the characters in Samurai 7 or Samurai Champloo wear any, Afro doesn't wear any, WHY?

So yeah, Kazuya looks almost completely different to his Volume 1 drawing but that was kinda the point. Last chapter even said Ayako didn't even recognise him so I guess I covered my arse there. He's still got the same eyes, nose and distinct frown, but I guess it just goes to show how changing a hairstyle makes a difference. Ayako next time.


	26. Chapter 26 Return of a Familiar Face

Chapter 26: Return of a Familiar Face

"_Cryo Blast Jutsu!_"

Into the night Kazuya's jutsu blazed a cool blue beam of frozen chakra. Like a searchlight in the darkness it banked towards the woman above, standing atop her oversized falcon like a conqueror looking down at her subjects. With a lash of her handheld whip the creature swerved left, its wing narrowly missing the tree-sized pillar of ice before Kazuya let it go.

Madoka Oyama remained expressionless the whole time. Her spiral-patterned eyes reflected nothing but a mirror image back at Kazuya. As the falcon slowed back to a hover though, a noticeable snigger spread across her lips. From a distance Kazuya just about distinguished the red arrows forming next to her pupils, so he reciprocated in holding back the Jikogan, if only to hear her speak properly.

"Careful Kazuya!" She held up the motionless, unconscious form of Fujiko over the thirty metre drop. "We wouldn't want her to have an accident now, would we?"

The samurai pulled his mouth to a snarl. To think that one of his own relatives could be so sadistic startled him, but more than anything else, anger consumed the young man. Long ago Kazuya had vowed to himself – and to Fujiko – that no one who ever rose a hand to her would live to tell of it later. It was a rule without exception; samurai had an obligation to uphold the principles of bushido, but this quickly became a personal vendetta.

Kazuya glanced around the mayhem. Amidst the burning tents and fighting ninja he looked for something – anything that could help him get up there. Fujiko was well out of jumping distance, and nothing he spied among the carnage offered any kind of foothold or springboard. Around him the screams of death wailed and the bangs of exploding clones made a racket, made worse by the fact that the human screams were the far more common of the two.

The samurai continued to desperately scan his surroundings. He knew no one by name in the riot that enclosed him; Shoryu and Ayako would be too far away, and even if they arrived they could do nothing to get him up there. If only he could hijack one of those falcons and get it under control. He set his sights on a particularly low flying bird and formed hand signs, determined to bring down the rider until a mighty crash of water knocked it spinning out of the sky.

Kazuya was moments away from rounding on the ninja in anger until he noticed who it was that cast the jutsu: Yuudai was nearby, fending off clone after clone with quick swirls of compact, powerful water blasts.

"Yuudai!" he called over the commotion.

After dispatching a seventh clone with a wheeling strike Yuudai turned to the sound of his name. He locked eyes with Kazuya over the pyre of flaming tent, and as soon the samurai motioned he understood the request immediately.

Slipping back into the fastest speeds the Jikogan could take him, Kazuya began to form hand signs. He planted the ground at his feet just in time to save him from Yuudai's technique. Beneath him the earth erupted, spouting out a geyser of incredible force at his feet. Gravel and dirt exploded in one giant burst, and the sheer force of the water was almost enough to make Kazuya lose his balance.

Fortunately the samurai held on. Finishing his jutsu, Kazuya utilised his chakra to freeze solid the first few feet of the fountain below him into a solid block. Utilising the same technique one used for walking on walls he remained perfectly balanced even as the geyser accelerated to frightening heights and speeds.

One volcanic shot of gushing water had provided all the height he needed. Riding the wave Kazuya towered over the camp; for one moment he witnessed the devastation the attack had wrought upon the division, but one moment was all he permitted. He focused his mind back to the task at hand and threw himself off the fountain into open air – towards the falcon where his enemy awaited.

It was a bold move; Shoryu would've called it stupidity, though Kazuya had thrown logic out of the window. He drew his sword as he plummeted, wind rushing against his armour, towards the gargantuan bird. He got within two metres – just out of arm's reach of his wife, before Madoka struck. If he noticed her forming hand signs he'd simply ignored it, and so he paid the price dearly.

"_Lightning Style: Electro Whip Jutsu!_"

A second whip, this one yellow and sizzling as a rampant, uncontrollable cable of electricity, appeared in Madoka's other hand. She wasted no time in lashing out in one vicious attack. Being in a defensive pose meant Kazuya's sword absorbed most of the attack, but the flexible whip only glanced off his blade and continued to streak down his shoulder.

Like a fly being swatted Kazuya lost all momentum. His right arm seared with uncontrolled electricity and he began to fall; all the way back to the ground with nothing to catch him. Despite the numbing, seizing pain in his shoulder Kazuya tried to form hand signs.

If he could blast against the ground then he could slow his descent and hopefully save his legs from breaking. Not that it was any good though; the shock in his arm sent his wrist into spasms, and his fingers twitched any time he tried to lock a decent seal into place. Helpless to do anything the ground rushed towards Kazuya. He closed his eyes and braced himself for impact, right up until a hand closed around his good forearm.

It was Shoryu.

Pulling him out of the fall, Shoryu hauled his friend in one great swing onto the back of the dive-bombing Kyoh. The dragon pulled up so fast that Kazuya almost fell off until he found a pair of handy back-spikes to hold on to. He'd never ridden on Kyoh before, but now that he experienced it first-hand he quickly realised why Shoryu spent so much time in the clouds.

Unfortunately Kyoh wasn't yet big enough to handle two riders properly. He flew alright, but he became slower, his movements a little more sluggish than his usual agile self; and naturally without two saddles he couldn't pull off the more impressive aerial manoeuvres that he loved so much.

"Kazuya, your auntie is a real bitch!" called Shoryu. A tug on the reins and a shift of his feet caused the dragon the swerve so hard that Kazuya redoubled his grip. Kyoh soared up until he was level with Madoka's falcon, then he began to circle it.

"You caught on too?" asked the samurai, impressed that the commander had figured it out as quickly as he had.

"Oh yeah. I'll never forget _that _face. She just looks like a middle-aged Suzume. We'll have to watch out though, she seems strong."

"I beat Suzume – I can beat her mother too," Kazuya assured. "But Shoryu, she's got Fujiko. Rescuing her is-"

"-Our first priority, I get it. She's your wife and the mother of your unborn child, you don't need to give me the whole spiel, I know the drill. We'll get her back in one piece."

Kazuya hummed a positive reply and tightened his clutches on the pair of spines protruding from Kyoh's back.

Shoryu licked his thumb and drew a shuriken. "Alright Kyoh, lay off on the flames for now, our enemy has a hostage on board. Just keep circling and watch our backs."

* * *

In a burst of scarlet chakra Ayako arrived at the clearing, right beneath the circling dragon and its prey. She watched them for a few moments; shuriken, ice and blades of wind soared towards their target and failed to reach it every time. The woman above manoeuvred her falcon like it was a part of her own body, and whenever a technique cornered her completely she'd swat it out of the sky with a jutsu.

The crazed war cry of a charging clone spurred Ayako back into action. She didn't have time to be sat watching her friends, not when a six foot herculean clone barrelled her way. Her hands fell to her sides as green chakra began to wreathe them completely. Before long her arms and legs were coated up to her elbows and knees.

_Clap._

One swift movement materialised the chakra. Emerald blades as sharp as any sword solidified across her, and with a single twirl of her body the kunoichi cut straight across the charging ninja in a shower of blood. Two seconds after she'd carved open his neck the familiar 'poof' confirmed her kill, though by then Ayako had already acted again.

_ Clap._

A circular orange barrier shielded her from a particularly nasty wind attack coupled with a handful of shuriken. The throwing clone's stunned expression when his jutsu backfired gave her the perfect opportunity to clap off another trio of attacks; two blue javelins pierced his shoulders whilst a third red flare met his face with a bang.

Feeling confident, she turned to take on another wave of ninja as four more poured in through the clearing; they were child's play. Their attacks were slow and predictable, their movements exploitable. She weaved away from shuriken and opened up the first ninja who came in close by adding the ferocious claws to her green coating. From there it was easy; any attacks could be blocked by yellow or orange techniques, and their lacklustre defence proved no match for a violet beam from her scrolls.

Once the group had been cleared Ayako dusted off her hands. Particles of excess colour showered to the ground as she was allowed a moment of solace to check on her friends. Blue eyes looked up to the sky; she watched as Kyoh darted under a stream of electricity from their target, following his movements until an assault came upon her.

It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before – a punch so powerful that her jaw popped out of its socket instantly, the impact throwing her twenty feet through the air to hurtle through the skins of two consecutive tents. She landed covered in the tan sheets of the camp, head spinning, heart racing and her cheek throbbing where the attack struck.

She wondered suddenly what had gone wrong; normally she could hear an attack from a clone coming a moment before it hit, allowing her to act accordingly. With this there had been nothing – her attacker had been either shadow-quiet or lightning-fast to get past her senses like that.

The second thing that struck Ayako was how powerful that attack had been. She'd taken punches from the likes of Kazuya, and even trained against Hoshi's terrifying kinetic manipulation technique where her arm became a hulking giant's fist. Neither of them compared to what she'd just endured; a lesser ninja would've passed out – she nearly did, but experience and strength alone forced her to stay vigilant.

The kunoichi sprang to her feet, throwing off the two tarps that smothered her and falling back into stance. She spat on the floor, getting rid of the blood in her mouth and – to her dismay – half a tooth. Ayako had always managed to keep her teeth in perfect condition. With her tongue she felt about the roof of her mouth until she found which one had been broken. The fact that it was her farthest back molar was some consolation at least. No one ever had to know.

Ayako brought up a hand and lightly brushed the side of her face, careful not to cut herself on the claws she brandished. Even the lightest touch made her wince in pain. Already she could feel it beginning to swell as blood rushed to it. If that didn't leave a bruise nothing would – she felt at first like a boulder had been flung at her face, when in fact her initial suspicion about it being a punch had been correct.

She looked back over the clearing, and through the burning remains of the western encampment spied the ninja that hit her. Much to her surprise it had actually been a woman, but the surprise stopped when she turned to show her face.

Ayako had seen this woman before, four whole years ago at Kateri's annual festival. She was tall, lean and fit, with a shock of brown hair flowing down past her shoulders and eyes green like a tropical sea. Tattooed on her arm was the symbol she saw daily on Shoryu's jacket, one of two crescents of purple facing towards each other.

The similarities between them – the familiar insignia and the striking likeness in their hair and eye shade – had previously led them to believe that this woman was in fact a relative of Shoryu's, but without the means to find her again they had no way to prove it. And yet here she stood, barely moving at all as she slaughtered ninja after ninja from the Cloud; they dropped like flies before her.

Ayako had remembered this woman after so long not just because of their theory about her and Shoryu, but also because of her abilities. She'd fought and bested Reizo – the current Raikage – at Taijutsu. Since then Ayako had never seen anyone quite so skilled at close quarters combat, even after four years in the Fifth Shinobi World War not one Jonin she encountered topped this woman. Now she was an enemy.

"_Kamiko!_" cried Ayako.

Kamiko Honami turned to the sound of her name.

_Clap._

"_Violet!_"

From Ayako's palms burst forth a column of purple, destructive chakra. The ground beneath it cracked as it closed in towards the enemy ninja, churning out a sound like a generator being geared to its maximum. It was all for nothing though, as with a simple skip to her left Kamiko evaded the technique like it was nothing, letting it explode into an empty tent behind her.

"You know this girl's name?" she asked, strangely referring to herself in the third person. "And what's more you're still up? I've got four gates open too – shall we see how you do with five?"

Ayako suddenly noticed something peculiar: when she'd seen Kamiko before, the girl wore a Hidden Sand forehead protector to display her status as a Land of Wind ninja. Now though, there was nothing. In this attack it seemed the clones had neglected to present themselves as a rival nation and decided to forego the headbands completely, meaning Kamiko was well aware of the circumstances – she'd betrayed her country and allied with the clones.

"I don't go down so easily," said Ayako.

_Clap._

"_Red!_"

Kamiko span into a flurry of acrobatic movements faster than her foe could keep track of. Ayako blazed flare after flare with quick thrusts of her palms, only to witness her attacks explode at the ground where Kamiko had stood only momentarily. As she flipped about the burning battlefield Ayako quickened the pace in an attempt to pin her. She was getting closer; from what Ayako had seen, letting her get in close would be a bad mistake, but with her speed rivalling Kazuya's it seemed unavoidable.

One blink and Ayako lost sight of the target. Kamiko had vanished, her swiftness such that she could outrun even eyes. Shaking, the girl spun around. Colour swirled at her fingertips as she scanned the camp for any sign of the Taijutsu elite. She pivoted back to her original position, hearing only a vague rushing sound to alert her of the danger.

_Clap._

Kamiko descended from above with a house-shattering punch. Her fist careered headlong into a tinted barrier of translucent yellow, yet the shield could only withstand so much pressure. It shattered into glassy fragments, the Sand ninja's punch sailing through it and striking Ayako hard across the shoulder.

Ayako's last minute barrier had taken some of the impact, but not enough. She recoiled, resisting the urge to cry out from the scathing pain that bolted up and down her arm. She'd saved it from breaking or dislocating; instead she'd suffer a wide, horrific looking bruise – bad enough to ache, but sadly not serious enough to warrant euphoric painkillers if she made it out.

Worrying about injuries was the last thing on her mind though. With no barrier and Kamiko so close she barely had time to react before another attack came her way. By throwing herself backwards to the ground Ayako managed to evade the impressive crescent-kick that arced towards her, and when Kamiko lunged in for a finishing blow she crossed her arms in front of her.

Having jagged blades of green colour sprouting from her arms normally guaranteed safety in battle; Ayako compensated for her lack of Taijutsu skills by turning her opponent's skill against them. The harder their punch, the worse they impaled their fist on the spikes of her makeshift armour after a block. Kamiko though, was different.

In seeing she was about to skewer her fingers, the Sand ninja's rocket of a punch stopped still in an instant, then a snap later she'd seized Ayako's good shoulder. Using all the momentum and strength of her body, Kamiko hurled her opponent over her head in a throw. When Ayako hit the ground all the wind was drove from her lungs. Ribs were cracked, and her back bled where tiny stone fragments had buried themselves past her clothes and into her skin.

_Clap._

From the flat of her back Ayako shaded colour out of instinct. In seeing the final heel rushing towards her neck a javelin of solid blue forced a retreat from her opponent. Rolling back to her feet Ayako kept up the blitz, one cobalt spear after another. So early in the fight and she'd already nearly been killed; already she was sweating, exhausted and breathing heavily, knowing she couldn't keep up her current outflow of chakra.

* * *

"_Cross Slash Jutsu!_"

"_Cryo Blast Jutsu!_"

As Kyoh raced under the beaks of two incoming falcons, Shoryu and Kazuya fired techniques from his back. Madoka forced her bird to manoeuvre out of their flight-paths. Like a starved dog begging for food the summon did as it was told, snapping up some of the minor missiles and spinning violently away from others. Its pilot even fired her own attacks, adding another element of challenge to the attacks Kyoh had to avoid.

With two shuriken left Shoryu drew one out and fired away. He took everything into account; their altitude and current speeds, the crosswinds and the moving target. All of them seemed irrelevant – despite his pitch being perfect the bird simply reared up and deflected his attack with a click of its beak. The shuriken left no more than a dent.

He cursed silently. In any other situation he'd be inclined to go for the summon instead of the pilot. Take out the pilot and the summon – more often than not – continues to fight. Take out the summon though, and the pilot normally goes crashing down with it. Usually he'd aim a shuriken at precisely the right point where he could sever a wing and ground the falcon. With Fujiko on board, such a tactic became impossible.

"Hang on Shoryu, I'm switching out," said Kazuya.

Shoryu was about to ask what his friend meant when a motion from Kyoh alerted him to another falcon, swerving towards their path in an attempt to cut across them. The commander drew a sword, readying his strike when all of a sudden Kazuya leapt over his head.

The bird's rider, saddled and geared up, was thrown straight from his seat when the future Taisho's boot slammed into his face. Moving quickly in opposite directions forced Kazuya to act fast; Shoryu feared he'd fall until the samurai's hand snapped out and grabbed the reins in one fluid, easy to miss movement. Then Shoryu remembered the Jikogan – accurate, impossible movements were made easier when surrounding time was slowed down.

As Shoryu and Kazuya banked away from one another the commander lifted his hand to his radio. "You scared the crap out of me! That was reckless, don't do that again!"

"I don't take orders from you." Kazuya's reply came cold and quick and his attacks. He didn't seem in the mood to joke.

"Actually you do."

"You'd do the same thing."

"I've already got Kyoh!"

"Exactly," said Kazuya. "Now we've both got something to fly on. I was only slowing Kyoh down; we can attack from different directions now anyway."

Shoryu frowned as he loosed two slashes of his swords. "Still could've warned me first. _Cross Slash Jutsu!_"

"I did. _Cryo Blast Stream!_"

Hearing another attack come from down the speaker forced Shoryu to veer the dragon out of the way. When Madoka swerved away from another column of ice the attack continued on its path, homing towards the commander and his summon until Kyoh dove away.

_This is ridiculous_, he told himself. _We're getting nowhere here. _As Shoryu realised the futility of their attacks he began to search for a weak spot. Even as a trained up, physically capable ninja his true strength had always been in his mind. Waiting for an opening, exploiting attacks and strategizing had been his secret to success over his four and a half years as a ninja; he only needed to apply it here.

The commander put away his swords and watched. Everything from the subtle movements in the bird's flaps, Fujiko's location and the hand signs Madoka used – nothing escaped him. After observing for twenty long seconds only one thing stood out. It was something he hadn't noticed in the heat of battle yet seemed blatantly obvious now: they were getting higher.

It seemed that by every time Shoryu and Kazuya had flown a full ring around their target they'd ascended a few feet off the ground to keep up with the falcon troops. The cords that hung from the birds no longer reached the surface of the camp, and most falcons seemed to be occupied by a single clone carrying a single hostage. That, coupled with the fact that Madoka now chattered into a radio, allowed Shoryu to arrive at only one conclusion.

"Kazuya!" he bellowed down his own. "Get ready, they're about to split!"

Almost the moment Shoryu made his hypothesis the enemy acted. Madoka's bird twisted out of its stationary hover and bolted off south, the rest following suit as the clones branched together into one cohesive, arrow-shaped unit. They'd got what they came for, and now that there was nothing left to accomplish they turned tail and fled, abandoning all their remaining comrades that still fought on the ground.

No command was given; without a word exchanged Shoryu and Kazuya set off after the fleet. Ravaging winds whipped across them like thousands of tiny razorblades. Being an aerial combatant meant the commander was used to the altitude, but for the normally grounded samurai matters became worse. With one hand he shielded his face, gritting his teeth as he pushed the falcon to its top speed.

Without guarding his eyes Kazuya couldn't see, but using a hand to do so meant that forming hand signs was impossible. Through the crowd of a dozen others Shoryu spotted Madoka's summon; he saw Fujiko, unconscious and now with a black bag over her head as their creature took the lead, streaming through a fluffy batch of clouds and out of sight. Moments later Shoryu and Kazuya followed them through the vapour.

The pair emerged, numbingly cold and drenched, to a sight they'd rather not see. A blockade stood before them; eight or so falcons hovered in static to prevent them going any further. Shoryu noticed each one of them forming hand signs, and in an instant the high-speed flight turned into a bloodbath.

Clouds were stained red with the blood of clone, beast and human alike as Shoryu and Kazuya pulled their vessels into evasive manoeuvres. Jutsu and shuriken of all different natures and sizes whizzed past them in a blur, yet against such an attack there was no escape unscathed. Dragon-fire, five Air Slashes, a windmill shuriken and two blind pillars of ice bridged the void of empty sky.

In three seconds four clones went down. A shuriken pierced Kazuya's shoulder though, and Shoryu's right arm was stripped of two layers of skin from the blowback of Kyoh's flame meeting a wind specialist clone. Still no speed was lost, and as the two units clashed Shoryu and Kazuya emerged on the other side of the blockade in a clear ringing of steel. Another wound slashed across the samurai's side in the exchange.

Never mind his armour – Shoryu suddenly wished he was wearing even his jacket as the scorching sensation from his burns reached unbearable levels. He'd wanted it earlier when the cold cloud had smacked into him, and now it would've been useful to absorb the flames of Kyoh's backfire. He clutched his bare arm, trailing it over the sensitive scalding as he caught the stench of his own burnt flesh.

Shoryu reeled forward in Kyoh's saddle, his breathing heavy and his posture held up only by one hand on the dragon's spine. Not for years had his ability been tested this much; it was a sudden shock that told him he still had much to learn, but for now they needed to save Fujiko and the others. With his good hand he thumbed on the radio.

"Kazuya. . ." he panted. "You still with me bro?"

"Yeah." A throaty grunt as Kazuya tore out the shuriken told Shoryu that his partner's condition was just as poor as his own. "This is nothing, we need to keep going."

"I know. Kyoh, what about you?"

The dragon wasn't exactly in perfect shape either. His diamond-hard scales of a midnight blue had absorbed all the damage to his face and back, though his soft underbelly had been exposed in the attack, sustaining numerous cuts and a purple bruise where he collided with a clone's rock jutsu.

"I can keep going," said the dragon. "But Shoryu, look up ahead."

Shoryu mouthed a moan, pushing himself back up into an upright position. Not a hundred yards of open sky away the rest of the falcon armada still flapped, though something had changed. They'd gotten closer – packed themselves together like a tin of sardines as a green cord of rope was thrown about.

From Madoka's position at the centre of the fleet she'd thrown out the rope to either side of her. The clones wrapped it around themselves before tossing it to the next one. Shoryu scratched his head; what did they stand to gain from this? Being closer together – and tied to one another no less – meant that he and Kazuya could annihilate more of them with fewer attacks.

No way was this their intention. Shoryu had never seen this tactic before, but with the burn still wreaking pain up and down his right arm he'd since gained a healthy respect for his enemies – they weren't they that stupid. Still, he had to take the chance while it lasted. Whatever they planned, he had to stop it.

"Go for it!"

But Kazuya was already well ahead of his commander's order. By the time Shoryu finished his sentence ice had blasted out from the mount of the hijacked falcon beside him, and after gritting his teeth Shoryu pulled out his final shuriken and hurled it to the air. The movement of his right arm forced him to recoil after his throw was complete. From his seat atop Kyoh he could only watch as his projectile banked towards its mark.

For one spirit-lifting moment Shoryu figured his attack had worked. He'd set the trajectory perfectly; if the shuriken continued on its path he'd carve a broad, instantly-killing riven into the back of Madoka's skull. Before it reached however, something he'd never seen before prevented it from making the hit.

Madoka, the clones, their summons and their hostages vanished. In a blinding flash of blue radiance they moved at light-speed, accelerating a rate he'd never thought possible and fading over the horizon line before he had time to blink.

Shoryu's heart sank, the bitter taste of bile and blood playing over his tongue as he slouched back into the saddle. It was over – they'd won. Through some unforeseen, incredible jutsu from Madoka the clones had managed to escape with dozens of Cloud shinobi, along with the woman Kazuya loved. Defeated and weary, Shoryu muttered something into the radio, gaining no reply at all from the samurai.

* * *

Ten minutes in battle was normally nothing for Ayako, but against Kamiko she'd had to pull out all the stops just to stay in with a chance. When every blow could render her unconscious or even dead she learned to stay at a safe distance, treating every movement of her foe as vital. This was no ordinary shinobi – she knew that even types who were strong in close quarters like Kazuya and Shoryu would stand no chance here.

It was only by staying out of her range and going on the defensive that Ayako had managed to stay alive, though when her opponent moved at bullet-speeds and punched with all the force of a falling mountain, just holding her own had been an accomplishment in itself.

In ten minutes she'd been struck and bruised another six times thanks to her shields breaking under the impact of Kamiko's attacks. Her heart raced against her chest and she grew dizzy from chakra exhaustion. Half of her scrolls – purple, orange and red – were gone; the other half were on their way out.

Their duel had been particularly one-sided. All the damage Ayako had taken was opposed with just a few burns and a cut where Kamiko's leg hadn't quite managed to move away from a lucky blue. Being at the very peak of human physical fitness meant that she was hardly worn out either; she stood with the same upright pose as she did when they began, and so far her speed hadn't decreased at all.

Ayako shaded the green and clapped to reinforce the hard blades strapped to her arms and legs. It wasn't much, but at least it threw Kamiko off momentarily whenever she held them up in defence.

"Why?" Ayako said suddenly, reaffirming her stance. "Why are you here? You're a Sand shinobi aren't you? I could understand you coming here if the Land of Wind's army finally works its way through the Fire, but why are you with the clones? If you know what they are, then surely you know that they started this war, and-"

"_Bzzzzt! _Sorry babe, but Kamiko isn't here right now," said the girl.

Ayako narrowed her eyes in suspicion. That marked the second time Kamiko had referred to herself in the third person, though if her words were to be believed then Kamiko herself wasn't the one in control. "What do you mean?"

When Kamiko said nothing in reply Ayako thought back to all the information they'd been given about the clone army. There was something behind the girl's words, something she'd been missing all along. After considering the evidence there was only one possible conclusion that made sense to her.

"You're the Genjutsu master, aren't you? The one who took control of our last Raikage – the one who controls the clones – you're possessing Kamiko now, right?"

"Ooh." Kamiko's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her plain expression replaced by an evil sneer. "Not bad. It looks like there's a brain under that pretty exterior. I take it you're close to the Kage then? He hasn't told everyone yet has he – thinks it'll just direct the war towards the Cloud? Smart move if you ask me."

"I was his student."

"Ahh. Ayako. . . Tsuji is it?"

When Ayako's head tilted in confusion the puppeteer elaborated.

"I learned a lot whilst Kira Asakura was my vessel. Part of my job was gathering all the information I could and keeping tabs on certain. . . Threats. Nothing slipped by me where adversaries like Reizo were concerned."

Ayako grinned. "So you always saw Reizo-sensei as a threat? Fat lot of good it did you in the end."

"Quite the contrary. You should feel ashamed I managed to infiltrate the Cloud for so long. I always knew my disguise couldn't last forever, but you made it way too easy for me."

"But why Kamiko? Why pluck one human girl out of the Sand to join your army of clones?"

"She didn't come willingly you see. She was raised to play her part, but when push came to shove she backed out like a coward. I like this body anyway; Kamiko here has a rather interesting Alpha Gene."

"_Alpha Gene?_" Ayako's heart stopped; it was the first time they'd heard the term since Kira's death. "What _is_ that? What are you talking about?"

"Come now, you really think I'm such a fool as to tell you our secrets while you still breathe? Now if you'll excuse me I think we need to wrap this up quickly – I wouldn't want to be left behind. Let's see how you handle _the Sixth Gate!_"

There were two things Ayako noticed as Kamiko set off towards her. At her last sentence about being 'left behind' the kunoichi glanced around, only to find that clones everywhere had begun to flee into the dead of night. They made for the outer perimeter of flaming tents, yet at almost every turn they were intercepted by the raging charge of a Cloud ninja, some wailing over the death of comrades.

The second thing Ayako couldn't help but notice was that Kamiko grew faster. When ninja opened their inner chakra gates they normally had to stop and concentrate, but this girl could do so on the fly. The Sixth Gate of Joy had been opened; Ayako had only ever been up against as many as four. Kamiko's movements became faster, her strides stronger, and her silky skin flushed a deep shade of brown.

Her eyes seemed to roll back into their sockets, the veins in her temples almost bursting as visible chakra enveloped her. Even non-sensory ninja began to feel a sensation from so much energy, like an overwhelming presence pushing down, restricting movements and making the air around close and suffocating.

_Clap._

As she sprinted across the clearing a bomb went off by Kamiko's feet. It was a trap Ayako had previously laid, a nice collection of red and blue splodges well hidden in the grass, primed and ready to be sparked alight. Her speed allowed the ex-Sand ninja to dart away, but Ayako's timing ensured she didn't escape without a mark.

The flare from the red painted an ugly scorch mark up Kamiko's ankle, leading up to her leg from which numerous small, blue chakra fragments protruded, like someone had thrown an empty bottle at the floor beside her. Sensing that she wouldn't get a better opening, Ayako pounced.

Kamiko had just about managed to inspect the damage before the aspiring Kage rushed her, a triple-bladed claw of green chakra cutting the air and aiming a perfect punch right between her eyes. Ayako swung her entire weight into her lethal attack, but Kamiko was slightly faster. The woman dodged death by a needle's width as she raked back her body in total limbo. From there she could flip back into an aerial kick, smacking Ayako's chin perfectly before coming down with an elbow designed to break her back.

_Clap._

The last of her yellow created a barrier between Ayako and her foe. Being made of more colour than the others, this shield didn't simply crack. It was thicker – more durable, so that when Kamiko's elbow made contact she simply bounced off it, right on time for Ayako to dispel the wall and shade what remained of her blue scroll – the last one she had.

_Clap._

A blitz of azure quilted the air - a collection of chakra spears so tightly packed together that they cast an ominous shadow over the tents in the dying light of surrounding flames. Despite the broad range they encompassed Kamiko managed to dodge, though Ayako had anticipated it. Without any scrolls left the clone leader thought her helpless. Shoryu had once thought the same, until her hair colour changed before his eyes. Violet swirled in her palms as her hair went back to its natural blonde.

_Clap._

As fast as Ayako could shade a purple beam closed the gap between the two fighters, erupting with the sound of a paper bomb and engulfing the nearby area in plumes of a lilac haze. Having no rest for so long meant that Ayako suddenly slumped; a hand fell to her knee as she forced herself to stay standing – to witness for herself the results of her attack.

It was as bad as she feared. In spite of deadly precision and thinking three steps ahead, Ayako's attack had failed to sully Kamiko's capabilities. She strolled out of the smoke, her left hand clutching her side where the beam had taken a chunk out of her flesh. For a moment this made Ayako smirk; with such a serious wound the battle was all but over – or rather it _would_ be in any normal situation.

It was only then that Ayako remembered a certain detail about Reizo's fight with the Tenth Raikage. He said that the man controlling him – the puppeteer – sustained Kira's life force, allowing him to defy his age and act with physical capabilities that should've been beyond him. All the pain he suffered in the battle went straight to the trapped mind of Kira Asakura; the puppeteer could continue to make his body move as normal, because he was the one in control, and he felt nothing.

"Yours really is a foul jutsu," spat Ayako.

"I think it's remarkable. I don't believe I got around to showing you what having six inner gates open can really do. Add that to the fact that you've got no other attacks left and, well, I don't think this will last much longer."

Ayako closed her eyes and nodded her head. After straightening herself upright she released a long, drawn-out exhale as she attempted to cool herself down. Already she could feel the perplexed stare of Kamiko's possessor boring into her, though she paid it no mind as she began to form hand signs. There was no other choice.

"You're right. This fight will be over soon," she muttered. One seal after another she strung together more shapes with her fingers. In battle Ayako normally had to perform only three to initiate the Shading Jutsu, but this time something else required them – an extension of her abilities. "I know you're probably going all out right now, so I'd feel bad not doing the same. To Kamiko, I know you can hear me: I want to say I'm sorry; it's not your fault you have to bear through this.

"And to _you_." Her eyes flashed open as she addressed the puppeteer. "I want to thank you. I've never had the occasion to use this technique in combat before, so you've got my gratitude for being the first."

The final seal was a clap, one from which rushed a mighty force that made Kamiko shut her eyes for an instant. When she opened them up everything had changed; a cyclone had whipped up with the younger girl as its midpoint, but this wasn't a natural tornado by any means.

"_Ninja Art: Spontaneous Absorption!_"

Streaks of colour swirled about her, forcefully torn from their surfaces to join the storm around Ayako. Tan from the tents and brown from the mud joined the tempest, followed quickly by grass-green and blue from the water of a nearby cooler. Yellow and cerulean from her flak-jacket and gloves came up next, and then peachy orange from the cliffs completed it.

Colours were split in an instant. Those that she couldn't use Ayako modified, taking the darkness out of tan to make it red. With an abundance of green from below she split more than half of it to give her a bigger arsenal of blue and yellow. By the time she'd finished all colour in a twenty yard radius had been stripped from every surface around her. A scene of only black and white was broken at its nexus by a kaleidoscopic palette of primary and secondary colours, with only Ayako stood at its centre.

"You took the trouble to remember my name, so I think you ought to remember something else about me too." A swash of red wrapped itself around her hands before she added, "I'm the one who's going to be Twelfth Raikage!"

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: _Badass! _Any time you count Ayako out as being nothing on the other two characters she pulls something out to make me think otherwise. It might've been clear-cut at the beginning of the series, but honestly I think that at this point in time if you threw Shoryu, Ayako and Kazuya into a battle royale even I don't know who'd come out on top. _Never _count Ayako out :)

You see at this point in the Naruto manga Sakura is so weak in comparison to the others that she's practically a non-combatant. It's great to see less of her because, you know, she's a terrible character, but it's like nothing she does at this point could possibly have any effect on any serious adversary, and she's supposed to be a main character! Hell if that's going to happen to Ayako.

I bet you all forgot about Kamiko Honami as well! I should've brought her back sooner but never mind. Everything is coming together now you'll be glad to hear. This is the part of the story where I stop making questions and start answering them, so the next several chapters should be rather interesting. We're coming closer and closer to a big climax I've had planned for over a year.

And I just kinda noticed that there was a slight issue with names in this chapter. It's kind of hard to read when three of the major characters in this one chapter just happen to be called Ayako, Fujiko and Kamiko. Any more –ko names anyone? Yeah I'm gonna make sure not to include another xD

Lastly there's a new picture up. Big surprise, it's of Ayako. She looks a lot better at seventeen, but I have to say there's a lot more to drawing the female form than I originally thought. It wasn't so hard when she was younger, but now that she's *ahem* matured, it was a little trickier. Take your eyes off her boobs and hips for a moment guys – you know who you are!

So, now that all three main characters have completed versions of their thirteen and seventeen year old selves I have a slight boast to make: I – a total amateur – am officially better at drawing timeskips than Tite Kubo. Yay for modesty! To be fair anyone could be.

I mean seriously, I like Bleach but come on! It's like he sat down and went, "How do I make this character look a little older? I know! I'll just make them grow their hair a few inches! That'll work!" Then he developed short-term memory loss and so repeated the same process OVER AND OVER again. Pretty much every character just grows their hair three inches except for Rukia (who shortens it three inches) and Ikkaku (who is bald). Rant over.


	27. Chapter 27 A Small Victory

Chapter 27: A Small Victory

"Kazuya!"

With a steady hand Shoryu guided Kyoh down to the canyon floor and landed him right in front of the samurai, blocking his path. As the commander unbuckled and swung off the dragon Kazuya placed a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Come on Kazuya, we need to get back to the camp," said Shoryu.

"Are you serious? That's my wife they took, and they went south, so I'm going. Move Shoryu."

"Kazuya, the _whole ninja world _is south of us. You really think you'll find them? You saw how fast they moved, they could be a thousand miles away by now!" In his head Shoryu knew he was right; they were gone, and any odds of finding the same clone fleet had vanished the moment that strange jutsu spirited them away. He also knew the obstinacy of samurai. Talking Kazuya out of this wouldn't be easy.

"Maybe so, but I have to try," said Kazuya, "The longer I wait the more danger she's in."

"She's alive. If they wanted her dead then why not just kill her at the camp?" Shoryu pointed out. "No – everyone they took, they took alive. That means they need her for something; hostages maybe."

"You know the Cloud's policy on hostages Shoryu."

"True," reflected the boy. Any personnel taken hostage were labelled as killed in action, no questions asked. "But that doesn't mean _we _can't do something about it. Reizo will understand, and besides, they took too many ninja for us just to forget about them. Think about it Kazuya: you could spend years searching south and come up with nothing, but if you stay with us we might be able to get a location. Any information and I'll make damn sure it goes straight to you."

Kazuya stopped for a moment and released his sword. Four years ago he would've gone regardless, yet the logic and wisdom he'd acquired since becoming a ninja forced him to stay. There was no sense in ploughing south – the odds of him stumbling across the clone base where Fujiko was being kept were a million to one.

"I know what you must be thinking – that marching in the other direction is just the same as abandoning her, but it isn't." Once he was sure it was safe to approach Shoryu stepped forward and clasped a hand on Kazuya's shoulder. "Look behind you."

Kazuya did as he was told. Orange flames licked at the air as if a dragon ten times the size of Kyoh had laid waste to Division Two. Most of the men he'd served alongside for four years were dead; at a guess, perhaps a fifth remained of the thousand-strong platoon of trained ninja remained. The camp he'd once called home had become a funeral pyre.

"You can't abandon them either," Shoryu went on. "Once we finish the fight we'll make a plan from there. But listen to me Kazuya, I can't guarantee you anything, but I know that the best chance you have of finding her – at least before she gives birth – is if you come with me. I swear I'll do everything in my power to help you get her back."

* * *

One zipped about the field with all the speed of a mayfly, the other stationary with a translucent vortex of colour encasing her. From the maelstrom of primary and secondary shades Ayako plucked out individual reds and made a rapid-fire cluster of flares. Without the need to clap she could shoot them faster than ever before, but even that wasn't enough to keep up with Kamiko Honami.

The Taijutsu-specialist's movements were a blur. Their speed gave Ayako a headache, straining her eyes to keep up with the constant pace. Every attack she fired exploded a pace behind her back heel; even when Ayako opted to throw blues and purples into the equation Kamiko evaded them all.

After disappearing behind a downed tent Kamiko used the distraction to double back on herself. Once the opening was clear she launched herself into the air, coming down hard on the rainbow whirlwind.

Another yellow was pulled from the mist, this one strong enough to negate the impact of the clone leader's kick. With the opportunity in play Ayako bolstered her green claws and arm-razors to lash out twice into the colour cloud, severing nothing but a scrap of cloth and a lock of hair. Before she could continue her attack Kamiko vanished back into her circling, dizzying routine.

"You? Twelfth Raikage? Don't make me laugh!" said the puppeteer. Again and again Kamiko came back with kicks and punches that slowly began to exhaust the hurricane's supply of yellow and orange.

From every different angle she struck, one second after the other. First from above, from the side and then behind, and once she was within an inch of Ayako's neck a barrier was formed to shield her from the attack. Kamiko even tried bringing her fists together on the Cloud ninja's temples to crush Ayako's skull like a grape. Two barriers shot up just in time.

"You should know you stand no chance. It's those who are _born _strong who prosper in life," added Kamiko, deftly sidestepping a blue spear from the storm.

Ayako didn't normally like talking in battle – it ruined her concentration, but something about what the puppeteer said annoyed her to no end. "I'll bet that's what you tell yourself every day, that you're better than everyone else just because you were born a freak who can jack people's minds. I don't have Kekkei Genkai or anything like that, but how about I prove myself right now by beating Kamiko?"

"That _would_ be a sight. Kamiko is a natural fighter; she was _bred _for this. No normal ninja could ever prove a match for her."

"Heh." Ayako smirked. "You should tell that to my commander, he hates all that crap."

As Kamiko swooped in again Ayako suddenly remembered why she hated talking in the middle of a fight. For a moment the ex-Sand ninja punched straight through her barriers and came only a measure of luck away from breaking her nose. To repel her attacker Ayako threw another purple beam, forcing Kamiko to retreat once again.

"Oh you mean Shoryu Aizawa? The failure?" said the puppeteer.

Ayako seized her chance; here was another opportunity to learn something – to fill in a piece of this whole jigsaw of a conspiracy. "He's caught up in all this isn't he?" she said. "You and your little organisation. We know Kazuya is connected by his Jikogan, but Shoryu. . ."

"Oooh." Kamiko stopped dead in her tracks. From a hazy afterimage she suddenly faded back into reality. "And when did you come to that conclusion?"

"A while ago. There's that mark on Kiyoshi Uchiha's shoulder – and Kamiko here – the same one that's on his dad's jacket. Not to mention the striking resemblance Kamiko has to him. It's actually a bit distracting."

"And have you voiced your concerns to him?"

Ayako shook her head as she went on. "No. . ." She considered for a moment, then added, "There wouldn't be any point. If I figured it out a while ago then he figured it out long before that, which just means he decided to fight you anyway."

"So you're close to him then then?"

Ayako said nothing as Kamiko began to slowly inch forward. Her movements were subtle as a stalking jaguar; a lesser ninja wouldn't have even been able to see her moving, but Ayako merely watched as her foe crept towards her. Her feet meandered slowly out of reach of the firelight and into ankle-deep grass.

"I'll take your silence as a yes," said Kamiko, "good. Maybe once I've got hold of you I'll wait until he arrives, just so he can watch when I snap your pretty little neck."

_Come on, keep going. Closer. . ._Ayako urged. She blocked out all sound, waiting for the right moment when Kamiko fell right at the centre of her well-laid trap. She was a higher-up – definitely not a clone and therefore different to any others they'd captured. If they got her alive, she might not take her own life in an instant like the clones did; maybe they could finally get some answers out of her.

". . . Or perhaps I'll break every bone in your body. I'll leave you in an irreparable condition so that when he gets here he can witness the last seconds of your miserable l-"

"-_Shading Jutsu: Eternal Dome!_"

Even the unmatched swiftness of the unbound Kamiko couldn't escape in time for Ayako's clap. In an instant the space around her glowed with a blinding yellow light, and before the clone commander could act Ayako's prison closed in around her. Whilst normally being used for self-defence, the Cloud Chunin had recently discovered that her most powerful shield could also be used as a container.

A translucent half-sphere thicker than any steel enclosed Kamiko. It took every last morsel of Ayako's yellow arsenal to create and every ounce of concentration to keep it up, but with this in place she hoped to secure her foe until backup arrived. A few punches and kicks made little more than a dent until Kamiko chuckled and resigned herself to the cell.

Whether Kamiko was giving it everything she had was another story. Ayako narrowed her eyebrows in suspicion when she gave up so easily; she'd smashed her barriers before – they weren't quite as strong as the Eternal Dome, but the victory still felt too easy for her liking.

* * *

"_Hoshi!_ Hey Hoshi!"

Once he saw the reliable kunoichi slaying away Shoryu had to cut through another six clones to reach her. He lost her amidst the chaos momentarily, but another glimpse of her chestnut hair allowed him to grab Hoshi and pull her from the riot. As Kazuya watched their flanks Shoryu kept his conversation brief – every moment he wasted talking another Cloud ninja died.

"Give me good news Hoshi. How many of us are still left?"

"Less than two hundred; all the rest are either dead or kidnapped. But the clones seem to have started their retreat, so we might just live through this," said Hoshi.

"_Damn_ it! We face greater numbers than these every week on the battlefield and come out with only a handful of casualties. This wasn't a normal clone attack Hoshi; they were organised – they hit us when we were at our most vulnerable and demolished us with whatever tactics they used," said Shoryu. Behind him the roar of Kyoh decimating clone forces made a break in the conversation.

"Tell me something I don't know – _watch out!_" Hoshi reacted just in time to throw her commander away from a wayward trio of shuriken. After recovering in a flash she replied with a fistful of her own, silencing the clone attacker.

"I owe you one," muttered Shoryu, dusting off his shirt. As he did so the boy grazed over the great burn on his arm. He'd tend to it later. "Have you heard from the others? I lost my radio."

"Jinga is being rushed off his feet in the medical stations and Yuudai is there with him – the idiot got knocked out by a blow to the head."

"And Ayako?"

"Haven't heard from her," said Hoshi, "but last I saw she was fighting over near the western outpost where you guys took off. I don't know if she's still-"

"-She's alive," Shoryu insisted. Ayako was as tough as any of them; the very idea that she'd succumbed to clone forces was unthinkable – or maybe Shoryu just didn't want to think about it. Either way, the western outpost needed securing. After thanking Hoshi he ordered her to gather up any survivors, and then called back Kazuya and Kyoh to accompany him.

As he set off west Shoryu couldn't help but feel that the portion of the camp he headed toward looked the most brutalised of them all. More than half of the tents – even two medical stations – were ablaze in tattered rags and black smoke. The stench of death pervaded the entire cliff basin that Division Two was stationed under, and in the wake of so much loss Shoryu felt a bad feeling welling up in his stomach. Where was Ayako?

* * *

"Impressive," said the puppeteer, giving a knock on the yellow cage that rang a clear hum across the field. "You coloured the ground right where the firelight ends just so I wouldn't see the trap. Clever girl. I take back what I said; you're not just a pretty face after all."

"I'm full of surprises," snapped Ayako. The incessant chiding of Kamiko's faux voice began to ruin her concentration, as did the surrounding rainbow swirl of the Spontaneous Absorption jutsu. Even with all the colour she'd pulled from the surrounding environment Ayako was beginning to run low.

Moving to get in range of more colour would break her focus; with no yellow left, reinforcing the dome was impossible, and all the green she had to split was already solidified around her hands and feet. The only thing left to do was shut her eyes and try to block out all external stimuli.

Easier said than done – fires still blazed around her, ninja still screamed, her jutsu still howled like a storm and Kamiko kept talking and talking at the will of her controller.

"So am I girl. It's a shame, you might have even made a great Raikage someday, but my patience grows thin. I'll be sure to send along Shoryu Aizawa to meet you soon enough."

Once Kamiko had finished her speech the girl acted. Gone were the weak strikes she'd used before; instead, Kamiko's kick against the Eternal Dome was so strong that a great crack split one side like a thunderbolt.

"One," she began.

Panicking, Ayako decided to use everything she had left. With Kamiko occupied with the dome she could use the time to gather up all her remaining colour into one sizeable blast. Ayako cupped back one hand as all the purple from the surrounding vortex flowed to a sphere in her palm.

Kamiko kicked again, this time spreading veins over almost the entirety of the bowl. Like fragile china the dome began to flake away; it wouldn't survive another kick.

"Two."

With the other hand Ayako picked out reds and blues from the tornado and mixed them, forming more purple to join her attack. Once she'd eliminated any trace of the darker colours she controlled the swirling mass with both hands, pressing down in an attempt to prime the blast.

Kamiko's third kick shattered the Eternal dome into a majestic spectacle of microscopic fragments, right as Ayako solidified her most powerful attack.

"_Three!_"

"_Violet!_"

In the pose following her last kick Kamiko was left vulnerable – unable to dodge as the kunoichi's beam of unrivalled lilac careered across open ground. The recoil was so intense that Ayako almost fell over, but after steadying herself she stayed on both feet just in time to watch her technique fail.

The movement was hard to follow, but it appeared as if for a short bust of time Kamiko's fist was shrouded in visible chakra. No doubt a result of her opening six inner gates, the wreathe of green fire augmented her punch to inhuman levels; so much so that when it connected, Ayako's purple beam went spinning meekly into the night.

From there it was simply a question of Kamiko crossing the space between them in a single bound. Ayako watched her disappear and then reappear at a much closer distance, falling through the air and arching herself into a lethal flying kick.

Everything happened as a blur; realising that the attack would probably kill her Ayako searched for yellow. Having used it all on the Eternal Dome however, meant that the typhoon of colour was completely scarce. Although, there _was_ one area she never stripped of its colour. It was for emergency use – emergencies like this.

For the second time in the battle Ayako's hair colour changed. First it had gone from dyed violet to its natural blonde, and now that same colour of liquid summer vanished in an instant, replaced only by a harsh tone of jet black. Whatever the image crisis, her immediate life was saved.

The shield from her golden hair shattered on impact with Kamiko's kick, though it slowed her down enough to divert its course. Ayako's shoulder was struck instead of her face. The force of it still knocked Ayako onto her back, and in just a few short moments Kamiko loomed right over, feet either side of her waist as she towered.

"That was fun, girl. In fact for that little display I think I might just finish you off with the very pinnacle of this body's strength."

Ayako stirred as blood matted her darkened hair. Dizzied and confused, the idea that she was about to die didn't hit her until Kamiko continued.

"Tell me Ayako Tsuji, have you ever seen anyone open the _seventh _gate?"

Before the Cloud's kunoichi could react Kamiko assumed a fighting stance. With knees and elbows bent the young woman began a low growl, slowly building in volume and pitch. Green chakra swam about her like some ethereal force; only as Ayako quickly noticed, the substance never seemed to get any more potent.

"What's happening?" Kamiko suddenly spat. "Why isn't it working? I should be able to access it!"

A single moment of distraction ended the battle. Once her senses returned Ayako brought up her right leg with all the force she had remaining, still fully augmented with a tri-pronged emerald claw of her own creation.

She watched in satisfaction as all three blades suddenly sprouted from the gut of Kamiko Honami. A smattering of blood splashed across the face of the ninja from the Land of Lightning, and in thinking her victory at hand she released the tension building up in her knee. As the blades retracted though, Ayako remembered one crucial detail about the puppeteer: he didn't feel pain.

As Kamiko grabbed the scruff of Ayako's collar and pulled her up she gave a wicked sneer. The real Kamiko was surely long gone – whatever consciousness remained was simply this embodiment of evil taking residence in her form. Such a sweet-looking, guiltless young woman wearing this horrendous expression only confirmed that to Ayako.

_No matter the cost, I've got to exercise him._

"What's the matter? Is that all you've got?" jeered Kamiko.

Here came Ayako's turn to smirk, as an idea suddenly hit her that she'd only ever heard from family stories.

With her hand dangling limply by her side she began to extract colour. Scarlet flowed to her fingertips as she shaded red from the wound left in Kamiko's side – the same wound from her prior violet blast of hair colour. A full five seconds elapsed before the puppeteer realised what exactly she hoped to achieve, and by then it was already too late.

"Why you – what are you d-?"

Colour faded from the dimpled cheeks of the once-attractive Kamiko Honami. In a matter of seconds her entire body morphed to a ghostly shade of opal, and in a last ditch effort to finish off Ayako the puppeteer made her raise an arm for a last burst of strength. Momentum faded rapidly; Kamiko's movements were slow and sluggish; by the time her punch was thrown it became a lumbering sack of meat travelling at a sloth's pace.

Kamiko fell before the strike even came close, allowing Ayako to descend back to the ground. It seemed clear already that her foe was dead, but just to be safe Ayako clapped her hands to dispel the crimson flare. A bang and a flash marked the hit, and as she crashed to the ground the Cloud Chunin fell joyfully into a well-earned state of unconsciousness, satisfied her work was done.

* * *

Ayako dreamt of dimly-lit caverns and countless voices, each conveying a different message of the utmost urgency. Some were distraught; grown men were brought to wailing tears as though something precious had been taken from them. The ground glided beneath her, though she made little effort to move.

For a time she could make out nothing of any real sense. So many voices crossed across one another that picking out individual sentences became impossible. As she began to focus though, familiar tones became clearer. She distinctly heard Jinga, followed closely by Shoryu, sounding more terrified than she'd ever heard throughout four years of knowing him.

Jinga then mentioned something about painkillers, after which she fell into total oblivion. For what felt like weeks Ayako drifted through space, contentedly placid as she hovered about nostalgic places from her youth. After a time a voice could be heard on the wind, one that grew louder and louder until finally she snapped awake.

In a single eureka moment Ayako realised that the dimly-lit caverns had actually been the same tan, leather sheets of every tent in Division Two, with the scarce candlelight playing off the walls. The ground moving underneath her was explained by the hospital bed she sat on, fully equipped with a set of four wheels.

"Looks like you're finally awake."

Ayako turned: of course, Shoryu had been the voice she heard. Just one look told her he hadn't slept.

"You know, the black hair kinda suits you," he said. "Going for a new punk edge or something? Is this the first we see of a rebellious, brooding Ayako with an identity crisis and maybe even a love of multiple unsafe se-"

With a gasp Ayako suddenly became incredibly self-conscious. She shaded green from the bed sheets to coat the colourless mess of hair she wore. Its natural blonde would return in time; the colour black was all but useless to a spectrum ninja.

"I guess not." Shoryu sounded disappointed.

Ayako smiled as she turned to him; the young commander had a rather strange way of showing he cared. If she'd really been subconsciously aware of her surroundings through dreams, then Shoryu had definitely been far more worried about her than he was letting on. "I'm glad you're okay too," she said at last. "How long have I been out?"

"Not long. It's one in the afternoon, the day after – well, you know. . ."

Ayako nodded and bit her lip as the events of the previous day came flooding back to her. How many had they lost? Did their friends survive? What would become of Division Two? All these questions she felt suddenly compelled to ask, although Shoryu beat her to the punch.

"There really wasn't much left of that woman you fought, but that tattoo on her arm; was it-"

"-Kamiko Honami? Yeah." Ayako watched as Shoryu nodded in understanding, showing not a trace of readable emotion. "She was under the control of the puppeteer. I'm sorry Shoryu – I know you thought she might've been-"

"-It's alright. As long as you're safe that's all that matters," he cut in. A smile of reassurance told her he meant it before he continued, "What did you do to her anyway? Must've been a hell of a battle if you had to resort to something like that."

Ayako sat up in the bed, realising suddenly she was in Shoryu's tent upon noticing the geometry map in the corner. She stretched out her stiff muscles, yawned and then rotated her wrist. Luckily it was sprained and nothing more, though the bruises she received still ached dreadfully. There was only so much Jinga could do.

"The puppeteer doesn't feel pain when he controls someone right?" she explained. "So when I blasted Kamiko earlier on in the fight he didn't take much notice. Most enemies you fight take care to cover up their wounds, but he didn't. After that I'm not sure – something happened – he couldn't access her full power for some reason. I used that to try and take her out again, and then when that didn't work I used the Shading Jutsu on that older wound. I took all the red out of it, and what makes blood red?"

"Iron – ahh." Shoryu suddenly filled in the blanks. Ayako had essentially drained Kamiko's red blood cells of their colour, deoxygenating her entire body by stripping it of all iron. Even genjutsu as powerful as the puppeteer's couldn't make a body with no useable blood do his bidding. "Smart move," Shoryu added.

"Enough about me anyway; what the hell happened to your arm?" Ayako asked.

"Oh that?" Shoryu looked over the ugly burn coursing down his right arm, already scabbing over. "Kyoh's fireball meets a wind tech whilst I'm unarmoured on the back of him – you get the idea. Jinga says I should be fully healed in a few weeks. I guess I could've ended up worse going after them like that."

"Did you get her back? Fujiko I mean."

Shoryu breathed a sigh as he was reminded of his failures. Shaking his head, he got to his feet and peered out of the tent. The camp still bustled with the survivors scurrying around waving stretchers. Some aided with the healing, others carried supplies, and a handful more Shoryu had charged with burying the dead. They greatly outnumbered the living, so any chance of carrying their remains back was lost.

"What about Kazuya?" said Ayako.

"Collapsed a few hours ago. He lost more blood and spent more chakra than I did, as usual. He'll be fine, you know how he is," answered Shoryu, slumping back into the seat. He took a swig of a half-finished sake bottle before adding, "I managed to convince him to stay with us instead of marching off by himself."

"That's good," Ayako mumbled. With a slight measure of effort she rolled out of bed to her feet, and then snatched the drink from Shoryu's hands for a natural painkiller. The first gulp almost made her sick, as she remembered with a start that Jinga's drugs still hadn't worked their way out of her system. Sedatives and alcohol never made a good cocktail. Wincing, she handed it back.

"So what are my orders, commander?" she went on.

Shoryu shook his head. "I'm not a commander anymore. Division Two is gone."

"You can't blame yourself for this. What happened wasn't your fault – any division in the Cloud's army would've been massacred by that strike force."

"I should've been better prepared; maybe if I'd posted more sentries on the southern guard we could've made a stand."

"Shoryu, it was completely unforeseeable and you know that! The clones just throw their units into battle like they're disposable; no one could've predicted they'd launch an organised assault. We don't even know what they're doing – I mean, why kidnap us? What's the endgame, interrogation? They should know Chunin and Genin aren't privy to war-changing information shouldn't they? What else would they need them for?"

"I don't know, but one way or another I'll find out." Shoryu vowed.

"Then what's the first step? Surely you've thought of a plan."

"Yeah," said the commander. "For starters we're going back to the Cloud."

Ayako's eyes widened, her jaw dropping at the notion of seeing home again as she rounded on Shoryu. Neither of them had been for over three years, so the sudden twist caught her off guard. For a moment she thought it too good to be true – that she'd simply imagined Shoryu's revelation. "_Seriously_?" she squeaked.

"There's nothing else for it. If we're attacked with so few of us we won't be able to hold out for long, and we've suffered too many casualties for reinforcements to do much good. It's just protocol in these situations," he explained. "Besides, back at the Village we'll have all the intelligence we need; if we're going to find out where they're keeping Fujiko and the others then our best bet is to wait there for information. Reizo-sensei will understand. He'll give us everything we need once he hears about Kazuya."

"Do you really think you'll find them? I mean they escaped by air - they didn't leave tracks or anything."

"No," Shoryu admitted. From the bitter tang to his first word, Ayako got the feeling he hadn't told Kazuya the slim chances. He tipped up his bottle again and continued, "But I know that if information does come, we'll find it there. If Kazuya trekked off south by himself then – if he's lucky – he'd get lost and probably starve. If not, he'd run into Sand, Stone, Clone or Mist armies that'd tear him apart. Kazuya's strong but he can't take on a whole legion by himself."

Once the bottle was empty Shoryu tossed it into his wicker bin and geared up. With his jacket concealing the burn and his swords reequipped he prepared to head out, though as he threw back the tarp Ayako started again.

"Shoryu," she began. "Don't let this beat you up, okay? Just be grateful we're still alive. No offense but you really don't suit the whole sulky, feeling sorry for yourself type. We need you at your best."

At this the boy released the first laugh he'd had since the prior night. His usual sense of humour had been robbed along with the lives of over eight hundred of his men. Today he'd clearly buried ninja who reported to him on a daily basis, but Ayako knew that to let it crush his weird sense of quirky, cynical determination would be a mistake.

When at his best, Ayako could proudly say that Shoryu probably fell within the ten most powerful ninja she'd ever come across, but that was only at his best. Tipsy and moping, this new version certainly wasn't it. Fortunately Shoryu seemed to recognise this; the boy gave a glib half-smile and winked on his way out.

"Get some more rest if you need it. We leave at first light tomorrow," he called back.

"I'm good!" With the drugs still making her wobble Ayako pursued Shoryu out into the open.

Black smoke still fizzled from the scene of countless crumpled heaps of tan leather as men dashed to and fro. The scent of incense and burning jasmine wafted about the camp, presumably to hide the stench of death and keep away the flies that were likely to feast on them.

As they walked Shoryu and Ayako passed by a memorial service; Shoryu had already hosted three before dinner, leaving him with little appetite. In the rising light of the sun's zenith the damage wrought upon Division Two's camp was made all the more noticeable. The entire place was a ruin; nine out of every ten tents had been slashed, burnt or unpegged, and of all five outposts only the central one remained standing.

After walking for a while the pair came to it at last. Its second awning was slanted on one side and the opening had a broad diamond shape carved into it. Shoryu and Ayako stepped through.

The fire boiled a pot of broth over a spit as medical ninja tended to the wounded on the benches. The two weaved their way through the mob, giving nods of respect as they went whilst a few eager ninja stood to attention for Shoryu. After meandering through, the pair finally came upon to the first empty room – a negotiating chamber, similar to the kind Kazuya had met his clansmen in.

Around a table sat Hoshi, Jinga, a sick looking Yuudai and – to Shoryu's amazement – Kazuya himself. Ayako and the commander assumed the two seats remaining.

"How do you always get up so fast!" demanded Shoryu, trying to earn at least a grin from the samurai. "Seriously, is there something you've got which I don't that just lets you shrug off near-fatal wounds?"

"Yeah," confessed Kazuya. "Balls."

"_Oh snap! _You want some cream for that burn Shoryu?" said Yuudai. A cough midsentence however, made his delivery a little sketchy.

"Good one. Anyway I didn't call you guys here just for banter. We're heading back to the Cloud, and when we get some information on that clone band's whereabouts Kazuya and I are going after them, with or without the Raikage's permission."

Shoryu allowed his words to sink in before he continued. The idea that each of them could be killed or stripped of their rank was evident on the faces of the four who hadn't confirmed their presence. It became all too clear that Shoryu had invited them here not as a commander, but as a friend – this was a request rather than an order.

"I'll understand if you decline, but Kazuya and I are going. It might be our only chance to recover the ninja stolen from us, so I thought it only fair to invite you guys along for the ride."

"You're serious aren't you?" Ever the blunt one, Hoshi voiced her scepticism. "You know that kind of a mission could be suicide, right?"

"I'm aware," said Shoryu.

"Well I'm in. I've got some buddies who weren't amongst the dead," offered Yuudai.

Ayako smiled and nodded once the commander met her eyes. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Far be it from me to tell you this is crazy, but you've led us to victory enough times already. Plus, Yuudai wouldn't survive two seconds without me covering his back," said Hoshi. Her remark earned a brief 'hey!' from the pale water user, before his sudden outburst sparked another wave of coughs and splutters from him.

"Well, I don't wanna be the only one left behind. . ." lamented Jinga.

"You don't have to come if you don't want; you've saved us enough times to make sure you don't exactly owe us anything."

The young medic shook his head. "No, I want to go. Something tells me those ninja we find won't be in the best condition."

With all five of his friends on board Shoryu couldn't help but smile. Last night's disaster was made all the more bearable in knowing that next time, they'd bring their whole strength to the enemy's doorstep.

"One last thing," said Kazuya. "I know ninja have certain procedures regarding important personnel, but I'm afraid I won't be able to comply with them this time. If we do this, and if Madoka Oyama is there, I need to know you won't restrain me from what has to be done. I want her to watch as we destroy whatever scheme she has going on, and then I'll kill her myself."

Shoryu pretended to consider for a moment as Ayako shot him a look of worry. It was true that rules and regulations wouldn't allow it, but Kazuya needed revenge more than anything – there was no decision to be made.

"Done."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hey guys! Big reveal coming up next time so stay tuned. And it's nothing minor either, it's a whole what-the-f&%!-omg-type thing as we skip on back to the Cloud.

So it looks like we're entering another story arc. Division Two got decimated and the clone attack left Shoryu's army in ruins. So where do we go from here? I'll tell you where: some new characters, new places and a crap load of new twists. Starting next chapter, this is the beginning of where shit gets real. There really isn't much else I can tease at without giving away spoilers. Until then, sayonara!


	28. Chapter 28 Revelations Part One

Chapter 28: Revelations Part One

Six Weeks Later, The Village Hidden in the Clouds

_And to think, this is where it all began for me. Shame to see it go. _Shoryu looked around as he reached the small, grassy clearing atop his old home. Everything was exactly where he left it, only it looked different. His mat had frayed, overgrown with weeds, and the three targets set exactly fifteen paces away were battered and faded in their four years of neglect.

Shoryu remembered how he used to come up here to get away from everything – to train and collect his thoughts in silence. Back then he was the scrawny emo who'd failed his clan, and now he was a respected Chunin of the Village. A vivid flashbulb memory allowed Shoryu to recall everything from that day four and a half years ago. Between what he had for breakfast and Reizo's approval, nothing slipped his mind about the day he became a ninja.

Shoryu also recalled his morning training session; out of three targets he hit bulls-eye on only one. Such a distance seemed child's play to him now, but if only to prove himself Shoryu drew two windmill shuriken. The first one hit dead centre – a perfect kill.

The second however acted much differently. Being infused with a coating of wind-natured chakra, the second windmill shuriken crashed straight through its target in an explosion of splinters and dried paint. It continued its flight until altered by a hand sign from the boy, allowing it to curve on a different course and boomerang back to the third and final target.

As he surveyed his work Shoryu grinned; what once seemed impossible to him was nothing but a routine exercise to those with experience. He retrieved the shuriken from the targets, pulling them out with extreme difficulty before absently toying around with a new trick.

Just as always Shoryu hooked his first finger inside the hole at the centre of the giant shuriken. Slowly, without moving at all, the boy began to channel chakra. He directed it to his index finger, but instead of coating the blade he focused on making it vibrate. Sure enough, the shuriken began to spin.

"New technique? Or do you revel in misusing your abilities?" said a voice.

The boy looked over his shoulder to see Kazuya, his armour all dusty having climbed the flimsy rung ladder built by a pre-teen Shoryu. Shrugging, the commander replied. "Too soon to talk about really. I've been trying to think of a way this could be useful. No luck so far – it could take me years to make it practical."

"A spinning blade?" Kazuya narrowed his eyebrows and observed the shuriken atop Shoryu's finger, quickly building speed until it became a lethal shredding device. "I could think up of a few uses for a weapon like that."

"Yeah, you'd think so wouldn't you?" Shoryu noted. "But wait for it. . ." The boy ducked his head and held the shuriken above him, waiting for the inevitable as the bladed star began to gyrate at speeds impossible to follow. In the end it reacted as Shoryu expected; the excess chakra made it spin too fast. The shuriken launched itself from his finger and shot straight up into the air like a firework, gaining fifty feet of air before it came back down and cartwheeled to a stop in the grass.

"See?" said Shoryu. "Impossible to control. Even if I tried to aim, it wouldn't be as powerful or effective as just _throwing _it."

"Well there's a dilemma." Kazuya looked around the pitifully poor training camp. In previous times Shoryu knew the samurai would mock him for it, but Kazuya wasn't in the joking mood – he hadn't been for a while. "Why are you up here anyway?" he asked.

"My mom is moving out, to the other side of the Village. I figured I should give this place one last visit just for old times' sake," explained Shoryu. "I spent a lot of time up here as a kid."

"Yes, she told me where to find you. She also said she could use your help with the boxes."

"I'll be right there." Shoryu nodded and headed off to the ladder, tactfully avoiding Kazuya until he decided to speak up again.

"I didn't come here just to tell you that."

Shoryu stopped and turned.

"Shoryu, it's been six weeks," he lamented. "Six whole weeks. Reizo comes back tomorrow; if he doesn't have any new information I'll have to leave. I know I probably won't find her – I know it better than you think – but anything beats sitting on my ass waiting here for something that won't come."

The commander sighed and resigned himself to Kazuya's resolve. There was no stopping him now; Shoryu himself had convinced him to come back to the Cloud and all it brought them was six weeks of twiddling their thumbs waiting for Reizo to return to the village. At the very least Fujiko's kidnap meant that Kazuya's samurai were now firmly on board, ready to strike whenever a location was specified.

Where Reizo had been all this time Shoryu had no idea. One would assume he'd gone to fight in the war as he usually did, although no division commanders reported his presence and any higher-ups Shoryu asked were deliberately vague. Only hawks carrying his letters confirmed he was okay, and even they gave no indicator of his whereabouts. Shoryu could only hope Reizo had some information, but if he didn't, Kazuya was out of his hands.

"So be it. Do what you have to." said the boy.

"You won't try to stop me?" Kazuya seemed surprised. "You're a commander, you've got enough pull with the elites to suspend me, or even strip me of my rank."

"I do, but I couldn't think of anything more insulting."

Kazuya allowed himself a chuckle as the two reached an understanding. "Thanks."

"Anytime. See you around Kazuya."

As the samurai mumbled his farewells Shoryu nodded and headed back down the ladder. Like most homes in the Village, Shoryu's lay in the hollowed-out spire of a frighteningly high mountain. Several were normally built into one peak, and each was joined by a rigid walkway that joined the towering summits together.

Shoryu headed through the simple wooden door, into his living room and the smell of roast chicken soup boiling over a stove. Over by the sofa his mother had compiled items into boxes arranged in categories – dishes went in one, sheets in another and so on.

After making his way across the room Shoryu leaned over the scalding pot and took one delightful sniff of the soup.

"Something smells good," he said.

Yuuko turned and beamed a strange smile, playing innocent. "Yes honey, but it isn't ready yet. In the meantime could my big strong Shoryu please help me out with all these boxes? There's still some left in my room."

Shoryu released an exhale; something about the way she said 'big' and 'strong' made him doubt he was carrying boxes of pillows. He put a hand across his forehead and feigned annoyance, "Such injustice! I come home after four years of tireless war, only to be immediately swamped by heavy lifting and constant physical labour!"

"Suck it up Shoryu, you're never too important for chores."

"Fiiine," he pouted. Obediently Shoryu headed for the door and up the stairs.

The hardest thing about living inside a mountain was the space. As the building got higher, the walls got closer and the roof coned inwards. Stairs became a pain; at thirteen years old Shoryu could climb them no problem, but since returning home he found he had to duck down to avoid hitting the roof with a whack. Having not seen the new house, Shoryu hoped it would be roomier.

True to his mother's word half a dozen boxes creased the sheets of her double bed, labelled to designate their contents. Preferring to get the heaviest out of the way first, Shoryu weighed up both the 'books' and 'photos' boxes before settling on the latter. Even the heaviest was easy enough.

On his way back down however, Shoryu's confidence got the better of him. He was so preoccupied with wondering how people struggled with moving boxes that he forgot something crucial: he forgot to duck.

With one painful smack Shoryu's forehead met the curb of the jutting roof, sending him sprawling back up the stairs. As the box landed heavily on his lap with a noise of shattering glass he wished he'd worn his forehead protector.

"Aw crap," he muttered. A small bump to his head was bad enough, but breaking the contents of the box was something else. Still sat on the staircase, Shoryu opened it to check. Cracked glass scratched his finger from the top few photo frames, but thankfully only those had shattered; everything beneath had survived unharmed.

Shoryu cursed again when he heard the rapid footsteps of his mother speeding for the door. She was there in moments.

"Shoryu? What the hell was that?"

"Sorry mom," he began apologising, "I'm really, _really _sorry. I hit my head again and well. . ." He held up the first photograph – the card inside remained untouched, but the frame certainly needed replacing.

Instead of scorning him though, Yuuko Aizawa only sighed and huffed. "It's fine, I'll get it fixed. You're too big for this house. Your father had the same problem; we were actually going to move out before. . ." She trailed off at the memory of her deceased husband. Shoryu bit his tongue at the silence, though before he could speak his mother cracked a smile and motioned at the photo. "It's incredible how much you look like him – Shoichi I mean. Sometimes I wonder if you inherited anything from me at all."

Shoryu flipped over the photo so he could see, only just coming to realise what picture he'd been holding.

It was a wedding photo, a scene of joy centred on a younger version of his mother and a man whose resemblance to Shoryu was now uncanny. He had that same wave of upright chocolate coloured hair, barely a year or so older with a heavy stubble and his right arm in a sling. At least thirty people surrounded them, most of them, like his mother, bestowed with hair of the darkest black.

"I never knew so many people from the clan went to your wedding," said Shoryu.

"It was a long time ago. You'll probably recognise one or two," she replied.

At his mother's words Shoryu studied the picture more closely. Right on the borders of the photo stood a much leaner and less bitter looking Saito Yukizawa. Just looking at him brought a bad taste to Shoryu's mouth, though seeing the boy stood in front of him brought a different reaction.

Composure broken, the young Chunin suddenly erupted in a fit of laughter, nearly dropping the precious photograph again in his outburst. He continued to chuckle as he stared at the eleven year old Raikage in-training, all dressed up in a cute dark suit to match his short ponytail.

"_Reizo _was at your wedding?" he proclaimed. "That's hilarious! Look at him! He looks tiny! Do you have any more? I'm _so _going to use these against him!"

"I wouldn't if I were you. I imagine there are some even younger photos of you knocking around somewhere. That is if Saito hasn't burned them all yet," warned Yuuko.

Shoryu agreed with a nod as his laughter finally subsided. Looking directly at the pre-teen Kage was still likely to make him giggle, so he directed his attention elsewhere. Instead he went back to his previous point about the clan; there weren't just a lot of them, they made up the entire audience. Even those without the trademark Zawa features he recognised as the spouses of his distant aunties and uncles.

"Hey mom, didn't my dad invite anyone? He must've had family," Shoryu asked.

"I told you before honey, he never spoke to them. They lived far away. At that wedding there were thirty-six Zawa and only one Senmatsu. Shoichi didn't care though, as long as we were together he-"

But Yuuko never finished her sentence. Instead the woman was cut off by another smash as her son dropped the photo again, totally shattering the glass within. Her look of anger was met with one of bewilderment, fear and awe. Shoryu looked ill. He put his knees up and curled into a ball, blocking off all else as he fell into a stupor.

_All this time. All this time and it's been right in front of me. It was so obvious; why didn't I see it before_? The inquiries of his mother suddenly pulled him from his trance. If only for confirmation, Shoryu made her repeat it one more time.

"My father's surname. . . What did you say it was again?" he asked.

"Senmatsu. . . Why?"

_I've been such an idiot. I always thought it was strange; I figured he was caught up in the affairs of that messed up family, but to think he could be one of them. . ._

"Shoryu. Shoryu come on, you're scaring me."

"This is going to sound strange," he said at last, finally getting to his feet. "But you remember Kazuya? The samurai who just came in?"

"Yeah?"

Shoryu laughed to himself; he never thought he'd say this. "I think I might be related to him."

* * *

"_Achoo!_"

Kazuya's sneeze flew from him without warning, disrupting his meditation atop the highest peak of the Village Hidden in the Clouds. Just twenty feet off a ledge below him lay the row of chutes that tunnelled through the mountain, transporting folk to and from the surface.

Here the samurai waited, patiently suspended in thought as he awaited the arrival of some kind of messenger. Reizo wasn't scheduled to return until tomorrow, but Kazuya would be damned if the Raikage came early and he somehow missed out on it. What great reserves of tolerance he had were slowly fading; if there was no news, honour dictated he must leave.

"Got a cold?" teased a voice.

Kazuya turned towards Ayako; she'd crept up on him without his noticing, nursing an ice lolly in one hand whilst hauling a shopping bag in the other.

"I guess so," he said.

"Or someone might be talking about you, that's what they say isn't it?"

Kazuya scoffed, muttering something like 'foolish superstition' before he closed his eyes again. Feeling guilty, Ayako decided to sit for a while. It wasn't bad so high up; the chill wind took time to get used to, but the scenery was so calm and quiet she couldn't help but appreciate it. In six weeks she'd barely seen Kazuya at all; now she knew where he'd been the whole time.

"I know it isn't really my place to say this," Ayako began. "But I'm sure we'll get her back. You don't have to worry."

"Hn," was the samurai's only reply.

"You know I admire what you and Fujiko have. I've only spoken to her a few times but it's obvious how much you mean to her. I really wish I could have that someday, but you know me, the job always comes first."

Kazuya's eyes flipped open in interest. "You mean with Shoryu?"

Ayako laughed off the comment, albeit awkwardly. "Yeah right. As if! No way. Never in a million years."

"You're a terrible liar Ayako."

"Shut it, he's my boss. It wouldn't be appropriate."

"Appropriate? You really think he sees you and me as subordinates? He's chummy with whoever he likes whatever their rank; Shoryu doesn't care about anyone's authority, even his own. At any rate, if you're going to be Raikage it won't be long before you're _his _boss."

"Hmm." Ayako pondered for a moment. "Good point."

A comfortable silence held the peak for a time as the girl went back to her fruity ice pop. Thinking up things to say proved difficult. Kazuya clearly wasn't in the mood for talking, but that very problem bothered Ayako and the others.

He'd never been especially chatty, but never before had Kazuya cut himself off from everyone around him. Shoryu even told her that he'd taken a break from their nightly sparring after four years of total dedication. If sword fighting didn't inspire the samurai she wondered if anything could.

"Ayako is there something you needed?" Kazuya suddenly snapped.

Without faltering Ayako responded, telling the hard truth. "Everyone is worried about you. I just need to know if you're alright."

"Everyone?"

"Me, Hoshi, Yuudai, Jinga. Hell, even Shoryu."

Kazuya released a long breath against the wind. Standing, he pushed back a strand of hair as his free hand hovered by his sword. Ayako wondered whether or not he even realised how his fingers constantly groped around the hilt of that weapon, reluctant as he seemed to use it.

"You don't need to worry about me. Really," he explained. "I'm not sat up here moping, I'm not having doubts and I'm sure as hell not feeling sorry for myself. I know my own strength; I know I'll get her back."

"Then-"

"-I'm simply waiting, trying to contemplate which exact methods I should use to enact vengeance on anyone or any thing that tries to get in my way."

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Yuuko's voice cooed over.

Shoryu sat at the table, out of breath and slouched with his head in hands after covering everything in excruciating detail. He sipped weakly at the chicken soup, staring blankly down at the creased wedding photo depicting his long-dead father. He was only half listening as his mother went on.

"So you're saying that Shoichi was a member of a wanted, criminal organisation consisting of a family of evil, high-powered ninja."

"Right," he said.

"And that this family is not only responsible for starting the Fifth Shinobi World War, but also for conducting illicit experiments to create some powerful dojutsu called the 'Jikogan' and perhaps even something else called the 'Alpha Gene'."

"That's what we believe." Shoryu took another mouthful of the soup; it was already cold after he spent so long toying with it. "What baffles me is why I didn't know any sooner. How the hell did I overlook that? I should've known my own dad's surname right? I mean, didn't you change yours to his when you got married?"

Yuuko shook her head. "Nope. I wanted to, but the clan has strict rules about that sort of thing. Not that I cared, but Shoichi was insistent that I kept my own name. If what you're saying is true then I guess it makes sense. He was ashamed of it."

"I still should've known it." Shoryu cursed his ignorance.

"I probably mentioned it a few times when you were younger. I suppose you just forgot it."

"Sounds about right," he said. "Look mom, I'm not saying he was a bad guy, in fact based on what we know I doubt that very much. . . But I can't say the same for his family. . . My family." He suddenly considered the reality. "Any information you can give us on them might be crucial to stopping this war."

Yuuko shook her head. "I'm sorry Shoryu but I can't help you there. He never said it outright, but I could tell he loathed them. Whenever I tried to get him to introduce me he'd shut off. I told you last time you asked, he had a brother and a sister who I never met, but he never spoke fondly of them. Same story for his father – he seemed to despise him more than any, although I know his mother passed away when he was young."

"Surely there must be something," Shoryu insisted. Piece by piece the jigsaw was being solved; he wouldn't stop now until he had all the answers.

"Well, like I said last time you asked, he _did_ have one cousin he got along well with. I met him a few times too but for the life of me I can't remember his name. You understand this was a long time ago – before you were even born." Yuuko paused as she racked her brain for an answer. "Urgh – I know it's up there somewhere. M – M something, I'm sure, it started with an M. . . Misae. . . No, Miku. . . No, that's not right."

Shoryu groaned. _This just keeps getting better and better_. "That wouldn't happen to be _Michio _Senmatsu would it?"

"Yes!" His mother almost leapt to her feet when the name came up. "That was it! How did you know that?"

"Well that solves another mystery at least: Michio was Kazuya's dad. If my father was his first cousin, then that makes Kazuya and me second cousins. Kinda glad he's not _too_ closely related now that I think about it."

"Then congratulations! Better family than you're used to right?"

"I guess." Shoryu let out another exhale as he buried his hands in his hair. All this at once became too much to take in, being caught up in this sordid affair. Kazuya aside, the only other two Senmatsu-bred ninja he'd come across were vile creatures with hidden agendas who'd stop at nothing to get their way. Suzume and her mother Madoka; Shoryu could hardly blame his father for not inviting people like that to his wedding.

Despite all the new information though, Shoryu could've sworn he was still missing something else blatantly obvious, like an unconscious thought just out of his reach. After searching his mind for a quarter of an hour only to come out clueless, the boy looked back down to his chicken soup.

Then he saw it.

Something about that photo by his dish didn't quite add up. At his own wedding, his father's right arm was bandaged up and held tight in a cast. Shoryu acknowledged that it was a longshot, but a sudden thought occurred to him, something he kicked himself for not considering until now.

Four years ago, when he first found out that his father was in fact a skilled summoner, Shoryu had suspected that the late Shoichi might in fact be the previous name inscribed on the blood seal of the dragons. Unlike the others, the prior name had not faded with the decay of time; in fact it was relatively fresh.

The most distinctive thing about that name however, was the appalling handwriting it was inked in – so unintelligible that reading it became impossible. In addition, it was also the only seal bound with a left handed print.

In order to test his theory about his father without giving Kyoh away, Shoryu had instead asked his mother about his father's preferred hand, after which she confirmed Shoichi was indeed right handed. For four years Shoryu never gave it another thought, but this new development could've proved otherwise.

"Mom," he spoke up. "Why is my dad's arm in a cast at your wedding?"

Yuuku smiled at the memory. "Oh, that? The idiot broke it on a mission pretty badly just before we got married – made for terrible photographs. For four months his right arm was locked in that damn cast and he was a nightmare for it. Every little thing I had to do for him – he couldn't cook, do housework, throw a kunai, exercise. He even wrote me a letter once when he was off on a mission trying to use his left hand: _completely _incoherent. He also tried-"

The door banged shut to cut off the housewife's speech as Shoryu raced out into the open. A second eureka hit him in an instant. In reckless abandon he clambered up the side of his house until he reached his small field atop the summit. His urgency became so great that it took him three failed attempts to finally pull off his technique.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

After five hand signs Shoryu palmed the ground with a shout. Within seconds a smokescreen enveloped the entire clearing, masking the arrival of the dragon Kyoh. He seemed just as perturbed as ever, giving his summoner an eye of caution as he licked the last scraps of flesh from a deer skeleton.

"You called?" he asked, never turning from his meal.

"Yes, this is important. Kyoh, I need you to go and get the blood seal I signed, right away," instructed Shoryu.

The dragon however, seemed unconvinced. "You know you'll need my permission if you're going to add someone to that list."

"I'm not adding anyone! I swear it! I just need to check something!"

Kyoh rumbled a low growl as he continued to suck morsels from the ribcage of his prey. He took a few more moments of gorging himself, ignorant of the hurry, before finally replying. "Alright."

With that, the dragon vanished in another plume of smoke. Shoryu thought he'd never experience time go so slowly; after just a minute he began to wonder what the hell was taking Kyoh so long – he _needed _to confirm this once and for all, didn't the dragon understand that?

After two minutes Shoryu sat. He drummed his fingers against his leg and pedalled his heels, and when that got tedious he removed his father's old flute and began to play. He only got a few notes in before something else occurred to him.

As Kazuya noticed before, the flute came from the Village Hidden in the Glacier, a samurai village. If Kazuya's father was a close friend and cousin to his own, then it seemed likely that _he_ was actually the one to give Shoichi this instrument. After all, samurai never trusted outsiders, but Michio had conceived a child with one.

Another comic poof interrupted Shoryu's train of thought as Kyoh burst back into the clearing. Caught between his jaws – along with the remains of his kill – was the same scroll Shoryu had signed in blood four years ago. The boy snatched it from his jaws and peeled it open.

Just as he left it, six names including his own were smeared in blood across the age-old parchment. He placed his eyes to the fifth as his heart skipped a beat. Now that he knew what it was _supposed _to say, reading the name became no problem at all. In fact Shoryu quickly began to wonder how he'd ever mistaken it for anything else.

_Shoichi Senmatsu_.

The boy's eyes looked over the left handed print one more time as he slumped to the ground. "Shoryu you giant moron," he grumbled to himself. All along it was right in front of him; years ago they'd made jokes about how terrible that summoner's writing was. If he'd taken a moment to consider _why _the writing was so bad he could've figured it out sooner.

_Of course. Because he wasn't writing with his preferred hand_. It seemed obvious now. _If I tried to finger paint my name with my own left hand – after cutting it for blood no less – I doubt my signature would read much better._

After sending Kyoh back home Shoryu remained seated outside, wrapped up in everything he'd learned in the last thirty minutes. Even though no one else had seen it either, he vowed to himself to never again be quite so dense – he was supposed to be intelligent; if that was the case, then what had he been doing this entire time?

Even as the rains came and went Shoryu remained. The winds howled and night fell eventually. He considered running to find Kazuya to tell him the news, but these days the samurai was mostly a no-show; he'd have as much luck finding Fujiko as he would finding her husband. No, he'd be with Reizo tomorrow – then he could tell him.

At least twelve hours passed as Shoryu remained in perfect silence and stillness. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had much to think about.

* * *

"Seriously Shoryu, what on earth are you playing at?"

The boy awoke with the wind on his face. His back felt wet from sleeping on damp grass and his muscles were stiff where he'd laid at an angle. He didn't need to open his eyes to realise he'd fallen asleep outside, nor to recognise the young woman chastising him.

"Ahh." Shoryu yawned and stretched out, finally opening his eyes. "I'm not even at war and I still get my favourite alarm clock."

"Very funny," said Ayako.

"Hey you really are – I wasn't joking!"

"Yes I know that; 'alarm clock' just so happens to be my all-time _favourite _pet name."

"Oh yeah." Shoryu took a second to think as he got to his feet. "Inanimate objects," he muttered to himself. "I've kinda been slipping lately haven't I?"

"With those lines? Not a chance," she joked. "Come on we can't waste time. The Raikage summoned all of us - he's found something important."

Shoryu threw on his jacket and snapped wide awake in an instant. Any news was good news. "Is it about Fujiko and the others?"

"I don't know yet, it could be."

The boy bit his tongue. Part of him wanted to spill out everything he'd learned the previous day – part of him even figured it might've been a dream. Once he was sure it was real he still remained silent; repeating himself was annoying. If he told Ayako everything now then he'd have to go over it all again once Kazuya and the others showed up.

At any rate, Cloud Headquarters was only a ten minute walk from his house. Shoryu doubted he had enough time to explain everything if he tried. They reached the complex in good time as memories fond and terrible returned to the boy.

Here he'd learned to be a ninja and mastered the basics. Here he'd also been subject to prejudice and bias from his former tutor. Whenever that thought came back to him the ugly trio of scars gave a twinge across his left leg.

Instead of going up in levels like usual, Shoryu and Ayako were greeted at the door by a man they recognised as Hatori, Reizo's right-hand man. He ushered them to a door carefully concealed behind a desk at the corner of the room, one requiring three keys to fully unlock before descending into a dark, dimly lit spiral staircase.

Shoryu shrugged and kept an eye out; after yesterday's promise to himself he remembered to keep on full alert in these situations. He never knew the Cloud Headquarters had an underground level, so whatever took place down here must've surely been top secret.

Then again, if that was really the case then why bring Chunin down here? Why would they have access? None of it added up. He pondered away, measuring three whole storeys down into the depths of the mountain by counting his steps that echoed loudly off the stairs.

Ayako twigged not long after he did. "We're going pretty far down. Hatori sir, are you sure we have this kind of clearance?"

"This is a special investigation, and your presence is required," grunted the ninja. "Try not to get dizzy."

"Yeah, spiral staircases always made me queasy," confessed the girl.

"Helix," Shoryu muttered. He'd opened his mouth without even realising, instantly regretting correcting her grammar. She'd give him hell for it.

"Sorry?" said Ayako, her tone accusing.

The young commander paused awkwardly, wondering whether or not to elaborate. Then, "The term spiral staircase is actually wrong. Spirals get wider and wider, if it stays the same width then it's a helix."

Ayako remained silent for a few moments before bursting into laughter. It echoed far more effectively than simple footsteps; even Hatori began to chuckle as Shoryu's cheeks flushed a little.

"Well _excuse me _Aizawa-sensei. I'll be sure to call it a _helix_ staircase in future." she giggled. "Why do you even know that anyway?"

"I thought it was interesting!" argued Shoryu, cringing now at the name Aizawa. "But I suppose you live in a world where _knowing things _is considered weird!"

"Quiet. We're here," said the Jonin.

Light poured onto the landing of the helix staircase as a second heavy metal door swung open. Far beneath the surface of the Village Hidden in the Clouds, Shoryu figured this might've been the safest, most secure and well hidden place their ninja had to offer. One knock on the walls told him they were laid with stone and concrete, whereas the abundance of light told him that some people must've spent nearly all their time down here.

Filing cabinets sat opposite fireplaces and a number of doors proved this place was in fact an underground complex rather than a single room. A few ninja scuttled about with paperwork, but Shoryu didn't see anyone he recognised until Hatori led them to the next room.

Here the space was filled to the brim with faces, some familiar, others not. Each of them seemed to gravitate towards an ominous looking steel door. Kazuya stood in one corner. Reizo was here also – and to Shoryu's disappointment his father Saito. The clan leader shot him a dirty look once he was certain Reizo looked away.

For every face that he recognised though, there was another he did not. Most had their features shadowed by a shawl, leaving only a darkened view of their faces as they stared at the ground. One was a boy no older than Shoryu, and stood beside him was another man, tall of stature. This one Shoryu could've sworn he recognised; he scoured his memory for details until the candlelight hit the man, illuminating his face. Shoryu knew him, if only by reputation.

"Thank you for coming," Reizo began, wasting no time getting down to business. "Now as some of you already know, we have a very special guest in our custody today - one who could help us to end this war if he can give us the information he claims to know. I can't stress enough that this is an opportunity we cannot afford to waste."

Shoryu hummed thoughtfully; that still didn't answer the question of why _they _had been brought down here. What made them as Chunin so special that they were made privy to this? At the very least, Reizo answered one of his questions. "I see," he said. "Times must really be desperate if we're turning to the Land of Fire for help."

"Land of Fire?" Ayako turned to Shoryu and nudged him, flashing a warning glare. "What are you talking about this time?"

"He's sharp, this boy," said the tall stranger as he threw off his hood. Now that his cover was blown there was no use at all in keeping his identity a secret.

"Told you he was," said Reizo.

At over six feet tall the newcomer had fair, flowing hair of a mousy brown, contrasting against the sharp white robe he wore for protection. His most distinctive features – and by far his most unnerving – were his eyes. Twin orbs of a milky white, cold and without pupils, stared out to give him the look of a blind man. The reality was far off; those eyes saw almost everything, for this man was Hiromasa Hyuga: the Twelfth Hokage.

Shoryu threw up his hands. "I didn't see this one coming; but then I guess it was inevitable – the Lands of Fire and Lightning are the only ones left out of the five nations that only defend, not invade. But even so, Lord Raikage wouldn't agree to an alliance unless we had some common ground. What's all this about?"

Reizo looked about to speak up when Hiromasa intervened, wishing to do his part.

"Our guest today – the one Reizo spoke of – he's a Leaf hostage," explained the Hokage. "He's already told us who he is and that he knows things, but he'll only give us this information on the condition that he talks with one of three people."

"And which three people did he specify?" Shoryu asked the natural question.

"Kiyoshi Uchiha, Shoryu Aizawa and Kazuya Takashi – he said any of these will suffice. Fortunately we have two of you here today."

Shoryu cringed as he spotted Kazuya's look of confusion. Now that he was here Shoryu wanted more than anything to tell him about their shared heritage, but this hardly seemed the appropriate time. His mind wandered back to the current situation – how did Kiyoshi fit in with all this? Even that question begged another.

"Lord Hokage," Shoryu asked. "If he wanted any _one_ of us three in exchange for information then why make this pact? Kiyoshi Uchiha is a Hidden Leaf ninja isn't he? Why not bring him in and keep the information to yourselves?"

"That would be ideal, but I'm afraid Kiyoshi Uchiha went missing last year. We have no information as to his whereabouts; he could be dead for all we know," confessed the Hyuga.

"I see." Kiyoshi being beaten seemed impossible to Shoryu. He and Kazuya had fought against him once, only to be annihilated the moment the Uchiha started taking the fight seriously. Despite improving much over four years, Shoryu doubted the results would be very different if they had their rematch.

The room turned to attention as Reizo took centre stage. "You'll meet our guest in groups of three. Once you go inside he'll perform a jutsu that will allow you to converse with him, so don't be alarmed. You see he can't talk with his lips – another mystery we've yet to solve. Since he wants Shoryu and Kazuya, I say we let them go first. Any preference for your third man?"

"Woman actually," said Shoryu, tugging Ayako forward by her sleeve. From just one look he could tell she had no clue what was happening – Shoryu had only a vague idea.

"That's great. You three were there when this whole thing began, so you'll know exactly how to handle this." Reizo beamed. "Remember: get as much out of him as you can. We don't know whether or not he's dangerous yet so be careful."

The young commander gave a nod of affirmation before leading his team towards the door. He caught another look of disgust from Saito as he unlocked the various steel contraptions. The door was heavy when he pulled it; so heavy that it required two hands for the first heave.

It suddenly occurred to Shoryu that the room he was about to enter wasn't just another room. This was an interrogation chamber, designed to keep the most powerful of rogue ninja in lockdown. The walls were laced with concrete, the roof was an entire mountain and the weighted vault door couldn't be broken with even a dozen paper bombs.

With that in mind Shoryu entered, finding to his surprise not a brutish, powerful-looking ninja, but a timid boy around his age. Short and scrawny, it seemed he hadn't seen a decent meal in a while. His fair blonde hair began to go white, and skin had bleached to a shade paler than normal. Shoryu supposed it came with spending so long underground; the Leaf must've kept him in a similar cell.

As Kazuya shut the door behind them the boy looked up from behind his desk, piercing blue eyes glancing across each of them. He looked sad – defeated and innocent like an abused child going into care.

From appearances alone Shoryu wondered how the boy could possibly be considered dangerous, but he knew better than that. The three treaded with caution as they took seats opposite him.

Ayako flinched when the boy began forming hand signs, yet Shoryu remembered his sensei's words and decided to let him finish his first jutsu. Once the final sign of the ox had been formed his hands began to radiate, blue chakra forming a shroud. He touched each of them one at a time as Shoryu braced himself for his turn.

The boy's touch was amongst the strangest feelings Shoryu had ever experienced. His consciousness unlocked, slowly creaking open as a door would. The sensation hit him like a giant blast of minty air; everything felt clearer – more focused. In actuality none of his senses were enhanced, though when Shoryu came back to reality he heard the boy's voice inside his head.

_Shoryu Aizawa, Kazuya Takashi, greetings_, he said, looking at each of them in turn. Hearing his young, eerie voice without him moving his lips was something Shoryu knew he'd never get used to. The boy looked to Ayako and went on. _Sorry, I don't know your name_.

"Oh - it's Ayako," replied the girl, still flustered.

_My pleasure. I'm honoured to meet you all, but I guess I should introduce myself as well. . . I'm known as Unit Three Zero Nine Six_, he revealed. The boy then hesitated, as though deciding whether or not to continue . . . _And I'm a clone._

* * *

_._

* * *

Author's Notes: Well it's finally out in the open. There were a bunch of reveals in this chapter, although I guess the biggest one was the fact that Shoryu and Kazuya are indeed related – second cousins in fact.

"But wait!" you say. "Wasn't this just a really thrown-in twist that you just made up for this chapter?" Well I'm glad you asked! I got some quotes here from previous chapters.

"_"Oh cut him some slack," Reizo groaned, palming his head. "I doubt he even __knows __what his father's surname was; what kind of name do you expect him to take if not his mother's?"" _Chapter 13: Personal Conflict

"_After hearing that, Shoryu wondered whether or not he should ask his mother for his father's surname." _Chapter 14: Clash with Fire

This one's actually pretty funny - an observation from Ayako:

"_"Is it just me or are those two starting to __look __like each other?" she said." _Chapter 15: Glacier Village

There are a few more knocking about somewhere but I couldn't be bothered sifting through the entire thing again. Mostly it's just superficial stuff, like pointing out their common traits, or the fact that one will often repeat a sentence or phrase that the other said earlier in the chapter.

And yes I know it's a little unrealistic for Shoryu to not even know his proper surname but it was plausible at least. I'm sure it's been mentioned a few times that his mother rarely talks about his father and switches off whenever Shoryu brings him up.

Think the part about Shoichi being the last dragon summoner kinda spoke for itself, so the last elephant in the room is this new clone emissary. This chapter IS called Revelations Part One, so what kind of secrets does this guy hold? Find out next time!


	29. Chapter 29 Revelations Part Two

Chapter 29: Revelations Part 2

Ayako was no stranger to the dull scraping noise of a sword freeing itself from its scabbard, so out of instinct she flinched away from the sound when three blades were drawn simultaneously. It all happened in an instant; one moment the three had been sitting calmly, and in the next, Shoryu and Kazuya had both unsheathed their weapons.

But where Kazuya drew his to attack, Shoryu drew his in defence. After the boy's shocking reveal he already anticipated his friend's reaction.

A clash rang through the interrogation chamber as the samurai's edge stopped just short of Unit Three Zero Nine Six's face, with Shoryu's two katana just barely preventing the clone's execution. Kazuya pushed harder, causing sparks to fly from all three edges. He shot his commander a glare and Shoryu looked back, his expression unreadable.

"Move Shoryu," he ordered. He put more pressure on the blade, drawing it closer to the bare eyes of the clone negotiator, though throughout the whole exchange Unit Three Zero Nine Six never moved an inch.

"Stand down Kazuya!" barked Shoryu. "Just hear him out!"

"You said you wouldn't get in my way!"

"And I won't, but if I'm right then this guy _isn't our enemy!_" The commander's insistence was admirable, but Kazuya was beyond reason. He pushed down in an attempt to break the lock with all the power he had, safe in the knowledge that Shoryu's physical strength was inferior to his own. Sooner or later his arms would give out.

"You heard him! He just _admitted _to being an enemy!" said Kazuya.

"He admitted to being a clone! And a _human_ must have made those!"

Kazuya said nothing as he continued to put pressure on his own blade, so much so that Shoryu's katana began to rattle with his unsteady arms.

"Please Kazuya," he begged. "Don't do this. What if he has that information you want? What if you're just about to kill the only chance you'll ever have to see your wife again?"

That did the trick. The samurai stopped in his tracks, eyes widening as he shrank back. He never sheathed his sword – he never said a word – he simply looked forward, silently contemplating how to act next. He'd sworn vengeance, but was this really the right way?

"Just give him a few minutes Kazuya," Shoryu asked, breathing heavily now, "That's all I want. Trust me on this one."

After a lingering gaze at the innocent looking clone Kazuya finally put away the vicious weapon of his ancestor. Ayako gave a sigh of relief as all three returned to their seats, still worried that the future Taisho might try something again once Shoryu's guard was down.

After raising a sword to his own best friend the young commander's mood was a foul one. He slumped in his seat and crossed his arms, fixing the clone with a look of contempt as the boy stared blankly back.

"This had better be worth it. Start talking," said the Chunin.

_I came here today to give you vital information about your enemy_, began the clone, his voice echoing around the minds of the ninja._ After that, I will assist you wherever possible. You were right Shoryu; I know exactly where Fujiko Takashi and all the men stolen from you are being held. We can leave on the morrow if you'd like._

Shoryu's heart skipped a beat. That was too easy – this guy was giving them everything on a silver platter. But if he proved to be exactly what Shoryu thought he was, he supposed it made sense.

"You know where they are?" asked Kazuya, suddenly horrified that he'd almost killed the boy.

_Yes. _

An eerie silence fell over the trio, each suspecting some kind of obvious trap at the end of the clone's bold claim.

_But I doubt that any of you trust me as things stand right now. I can't say I blame you, although as I said, I'm here to give you all the information you'll need. Perhaps when you understand things better you'll have a little more faith in me._

Shoryu smiled; here it was: everything he'd been searching for in the last four years was about to be made clear. Even with no guarantee that this was the truth, he _believed _it to be so. All his life Shoryu's luck had been abysmal, so perhaps this was the point where it all paid off.

The clone suddenly retrieved a yellow, aged piece of crispy parchment and unrolled it before his eyes. Before laying it on the table however, he used his forearm to shield the majority of its contents, in order to reveal it piece by piece. Only two names were visible at the top of the list, joined together by a thin line. Immediately Shoryu recognised it as a family tree.

_In the beginning there was Hajime Senmatsu, _started the clone as he pointed to the first name. _He was a simple man, an experimenter working for the Land of Fire out of his home town – The Village Hidden in the Waterfall. He led a calm, quiet and normal life; he even settled down with his wife, Chikako Matsumi. _

Shoryu and the others listened intently; this did not seem like the beginning for such a bloody affair.

_In time, Hajime even sired two sons with his wife._ Unit Three Zero Nine Six moved down his forearm a few inches, revealing two more names._ The first was Shoren Senmatsu, and the second was Masaru. For a while things continued as normal: Hajime continued with his work whilst Chikako spent her time at home raising their two sons._

_ Hajime's work was nothing sinister or world-changing you understand, but that didn't stop the Land of Earth from getting involved. There was a border dispute – perhaps fifty years ago – where the Land of Earth claimed that the Village Hidden in the Waterfall was under their jurisdiction, as it neighboured them more closely. Seeing the potential of Hajime's research they claimed it as their own, and naturally the Land of Fire retaliated._

_ It was a small skirmish with little immediate consequence to it, but nevertheless Hajime and Chikako were killed in the crossfire. _The clone gave a sigh as he continued his story, pointing at the two names further down the list. Clearly this was the part he didn't enjoy telling.

_But their sons Shoren and Masaru, barely teenagers at the time, survived the battle. After that accident they became obsessed with preventing anything of the sort from happening again. _

_They became infatuated with the idea of a supposed 'united ninja world' – the kind we had two hundred years ago. To this end they used their own knowledge to twist their father's legacy, knowing they'd need extreme and unnatural power to make such a utopia possible._

_In time, Masaru created the Jikogan, an all-powerful dojutsu that allows the user to perceive and control time at a different rate to other people. _

Kazuya's eyes lit up suddenly. This must've been his grandfather – the man at the start of the samurai's signature dojutsu: Masaru Senmatsu. He listened closely as the boy went on.

_Shoren on the other hand created the Alpha Gene, a more dangerous yet more flexible genotype than the kind his brother made._

"Alpha Gene. . ." Shoryu muttered; he'd turned the name over so many times in his mind – it was the only term that didn't fit, eluding them for so long now. "What _is _that?"

Unit Three Zero Nine Six reclined in his chair slightly and cracked the joints of his knuckles before answering. _The Alpha Gene_, he indulged them, _is Shoren's masterpiece, just as the Jikogan is Masaru's. You see, Shoren was interested in how the Alpha creatures of the great Island Turtle became what they are – what made them so much bigger, more powerful and more dominant than the rest of their species. As such, he named it after them._

Shoryu nodded, following the story.

_At birth, the Alpha Gene attaches itself to a single aspect of combat, and then automatically bolsters it to the absolute pinnacle of what that aspect can achieve. For Shoren for example, the Alpha Gene attached itself to the Clone Jutsu._

"So that's how you were born – all the clones we've been fighting. He's the one making them, right?" Shoryu asked.

_Yes_, confessed the boy, looking down as he made a glum face. _But like most techniques of this magnitude, Shoren's Clone Jutsu had an important flaw to it. . . His Jutsu was so powerful that it could create life itself – his subjects are totally independent of him. We each look different, we fight different, we think for ourselves and we are free of his chakra; even if he dies, we will remain. _

_ This caused complications. When his Alpha Gene attached itself to his Clone Jutsu, Shoren was certain that he had found an army with which he and Masaru could fulfil their goal. Since we are free-thinking however, this did not run smoothly. During the first week or so following our birth, we clones are compliant and docile, but shortly after we began to question ourselves and the motives of our master. We had no obligation to fight for this strange man who wanted the whole world. _

_ Sensing the trepidation of his clones, Shoren acted pre-emptively, sealing them away for future use. He searched for an alternative – a method with which to control us. Since the Alpha Gene and the Jikogan were both tailored to the DNA of the brothers, these traits were passed on to their offspring._

The clone moved his hand a little, displaying two sets of crossed-out question marks running parallel to the Senmatsu brothers. _They found themselves wives and pretended to settle down for a time, though as soon as they bore children, the pair turned and killed their spouses._

"That's vile," muttered Shoryu, suddenly sickened.

_Quite. _The clone unit moved his hand again. Leading down from the question mark and Masaru, two more names appeared. He pointed and said, _Masaru had two children, as I'm sure you're aware. Madoka,__ who I believe you've recently met, and Michio – Kazuya's father. Both inherited the Jikogan._

Kazuya didn't even blink at the sight of his father's name. A giant red 'X' was crossed through it, indicating he was dead. Even so, this was nothing he didn't already know. Shoryu's lineage on the other hand, was a little harder to swallow.

The clone moved his arm across, showing the names born of the clone master. _Shoren on the other hand had three children. The first was Shoichi, and the second were non-identical twins – a boy and a girl named Teijo and Yasu._

Shoryu lifted his hand to his head; it seemed petty now, but he wanted to be the one to break the news. Kazuya scratched his head in confusion as he heard Ayako gasp.

"Wait, Shoichi? Isn't that-"

"My dad, yeah," Shoryu told her. He turned to the clone. "Thanks for spilling the beans there buddy."

"You _knew _about this?" Kazuya leapt to his feet, bewildered by the discovery. He didn't know what to feel – how should he react to that news? Should he be happy? He could certainly think of worse people to have as a family member; half of them had already been listed.

"Relax, I only found out yesterday. I was going to tell you as soon as we got a minute," said Shoryu. He threw up his hands in a dramatic shrug. "But I guess it's out in the open now, so what does it matter?"

Ayako was caught between looking at each of them in turn, frantically comparing the two under a different light now that she knew the truth. She put two fingers to her chin and gave a thoughtful hum. "Yeah. . . You do_ kinda_ look a little like each other. . . From a certain angle."

"You don't have to do that," muttered Kazuya.

Shoryu nodded. "Yeah, I was always the good looking one."

_I apologise_, the clone began again. _I assumed the two of you already knew._

"I was joking, it's fine. Carry on," said Shoryu; it seemed Unit Three Zero Nine Six didn't have much of a sense of humour, though he followed the boy's instruction and continued his story.

_Shoren passed the Alpha Gene to his children too. Shoichi's went into his Summoning Jutsu, as you may already know._

Shoryu paused – he didn't know that, but once he thought about it everything made perfect sense. His mother once told him that Shoichi's Summoning technique and his affinity for befriending creatures was beyond anything she'd seen before. It stood to reason then, that it could be the work of some advanced gene.

_Yasu's Alpha Gene attached itself to the Water Style, but it was Teijo's that piqued his father's interest. His Alpha Gene was connected to Genjutsu, and with it, Shoren had a way to control the legions of clones he summoned. Teijo needs only a single touch to take over someone's mind completely – he enslaved my race at his father's command. I believe you refer to him as the 'Puppeteer'. _

The wheels slowly turned in Shoryu's head. "Great, so my grandfather makes the clones and my _uncle _controls them. Some family eh?"

_If it helps, you may take solace in the knowledge that your fathers rejected Shoren and Masaru's ideology, _revealed the clone. _As soon as they were old enough, Shoichi and Michio fled to lead separate lives, in contact with only each other. They kept you two – and your mothers – a secret, lest Shoren bestow you with a curse mark._

"Curse mark?" Shoryu had to ask.

_It's one of his specialities. I believe you've seen them before. _The boy pointed to a familiar violet crest on the back of the page – the same kind plastered on Shoichi's jacket that Shoryu had seen as a tattoo already. Only as it transpired, the symbol wasn't a tattoo at all. _Shoren and Masaru ordered that all their grandchildren be marked with these – they are harmless really, only trackers, activated when a child comes of age so that Shoren can track them wherever they are._

_Once they become old enough, Shoren and Masaru planned that anyone with a Jikogan or an Alpha Gene could become a general in their army of clones – someone powerful to lead their battalions. The defiance of Shoichi and Michio was the reason they were killed. I don't know the specifics; this was before I was born, but I believe Teijo, the Puppeteer, was sent to deal with them personally._

"He killed his own brother and cousin? Just like that?" Shoryu asked. He couldn't imagine anyone being capable of such a despicable act.

"Trust me, if you met him for yourself you wouldn't be so surprised," said Ayako, having talked directly with Teijo. She'd never forget how mercilessly the Puppeteer had abused the body of the poor young woman he possessed. "No offense Shoryu, but your uncle is one evil bastard."

"None taken."

Unit Three Zero Nine Six traced his finger over the family tree, finally revealing the final line of rising ninja. Most of the names Shoryu recognised – he'd met nearly all of them at some point during his career as a ninja.

_Michio Senmatsu bred into the Takashi clan, giving life to you, Kazuya_, said the clone. He waited for the samurai to give a nod before going on. _Madoka married into the Oyama clan – the Lava Style users, and from her Suzume was born._

Shoryu got a bitter taste in his mouth as he remembered the wretched girl they'd fought at the Chunin Exams. He hadn't seen her since, though he doubted they could count on her help in this fight.

_She was given a curse mark too, although I doubt she resisted – Madoka raised her to follow in the footsteps of her family. She now fights with them. _There was a pause as the clone moved his finger over to those born of the on the other side. _Yasu married into the Honami clan, and she bore two children. The first was Kamiko Honami, whose Alpha Gene attached itself to Taijutsu, and the second was Tomeo Honami; his gene went to Sensory abilities._

Well at least here was confirmation. Kamiko Honami was indeed related to Shoryu when she'd been alive – his first cousin. It was a shame really. Ayako strung together a few hand signs and after shading red, drew a broad stroke through her name. It still bothered her that she'd been forced to kill someone with so much potential.

_ Kamiko is dead then? _said the clone.

"Mm." Ayako nodded. "She had one of those curse marks too. If I remember rightly, the Puppeteer said she resisted them, so he took control of her. He was inside her body; I had no choice but to kill her."

_Such bravery she must've had. . ._ The clone was silent, pensive for a moment in admiration. _We shouldn't let it go to waste. Unfortunately I wish I could say the same for her brother, but Tomeo has already turned to their side. He is young, but he serves the Senmatsu now._

Unit Three Zero Nine Six moved his finger along; only two names remained, the first of which hardly surprised Shoryu. He was the only other man alive he'd seen with that same curse mark: Kiyoshi Uchiha.

_Teijo could not understand why his relatives had settled down in the first place – he didn't need marriage to pass on his legacy. Instead the Puppeteer used his powers for something unspeakable: he kidnapped young Etsuyo Uchiha and used his Genjutsu to submit her to his will, leaving her nine months later with no memory and a baby boy._

Shoryu remembered this story well. Four years had passed since Kiyoshi told him, but he'd never forgotten how horrified his young mind had been in the knowledge human beings were capable of such atrocities. It seemed Ayako wasn't lying after all; Teijo Senmatsu was without a doubt as repulsive as men got. He didn't care that the Puppeteer was his father's brother – every fibre of Shoryu wanted to kill him.

_Kiyoshi's Alpha Gene went to his Sharingan. I tried to give this information to him, but it seems he's on the run as we speak. His curse mark activated some time ago, and he has been chased ever since, hunted by the clones and the remaining family members who command them._

It was faint in his memory, but Shoryu also recalled Kiyoshi telling him about his Sharingan. Once it awoke, it awoke at full strength – an Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan with no training or transplant required. He supposed this was the Alpha Gene taking effect, bolstering that one aspect of combat to the pinnacle of its potential.

Finally the clone moved over to the final name, the offspring of Shoichi Senmatsu and Yuuko Aizawa: Shoryu himself. Since the beginning he'd absorbed all the information like an eager sponge, but as the final piece fell into place, one more question eluded him.

"Hang on," he said. Everyone else descended from Shoren's line had it: Clones, Summoning, Genjutsu, Water Style, Sharingan, Taijutsu, Sensory Abilities – everyone except him had their power amplified by Shoren's creation. Shoryu's query was an obvious one. "Where's my Alpha Gene?"

The clone fixed him a stare, confused. _I was hoping you could tell me._

Shoryu looked to his comrades, who each shrugged in turn. Nothing stood out. As far as he was aware, he hadn't been born with any special abilities. He sat there with a blank look.

_What do you specialise in? _asked the boy.

Shoryu thought about it again. "I guess I'm a fair shot with a shuriken. . ." he mused.

_Could you clip the wings from a beetle from three hundred yards?_

He gave a laugh. "Hell no."

_Then it's not your Alpha Gene._

"So I just don't have one?"

_Maybe. Like I said before, the Alpha Gene is far more dangerous than the Jikogan. Masaru's dojutsu activates at maturity, but the Alpha Gene is designed to be a failsafe – a kind of last resort. It only activates when the user is in mortal peril._

Shoryu scratched his head. "Well I've been there plenty of times before," he reasoned.

_You have to be on the verge of death itself._

"What kind of stupid gene is this? Ugh," the boy cursed to himself and racked his brain. He'd looked down the fall of a blade and seen the trajectory of shuriken barrelling towards him, but every time he'd been saved by Kazuya, Ayako or someone else. Did that count? "So I'd have to put myself in a situation where if the gene doesn't activate, I die? Yeah, I'm not taking that risk."

_That may be the case. I really don't know how it works, _said the clone. _I know that Shoren did this to his own children to force your father's to awaken. But it is peculiar – with all the time you've been at war it should've activated by now. I know you didn't inherit your clan's Kekkei Genkai; perhaps you didn't inherit this either._

"That's what I thought." Shoryu exhaled, looking weary for just a brief moment until a wide smile beamed across his face. "Ah well," he said. "I guess it just skipped me. But I got this far without the Raikyogan – I don't need this 'Alpha Gene'. I'm strong enough already, and I'll get stronger if I want to fight the rest of them."

In that moment Ayako couldn't help but admire the young man. He'd been denied his inheritance twice now; he had every right to be pissed off at the world for giving him the short end of the stick, but over the years Shoryu Aizawa had gathered enough determination to put it all behind him. He was confident in himself now, more so than ever.

Ayako suddenly felt that they could overcome the odds; if they worked together they could rescue those they'd lost, beat every last Senmatsu and end this war once and for all.

That thought drove another question to Ayako's mind. "You said before that Shoren and Masaru wanted a united world. . ." she started. "Why start this conflict then? Why go to the trouble of taking over Kira Asakura and instigating the Fifth Shinobi World War?"

_I believe they see it as a means to an ends, _said the clone. _In the aftermath of this war there will be little resistance left: the armies of the five nations will be dwindled, and most Kage will be dead. Only then will they reveal themselves. They hope to unite the world in one great conquest, using us clones as the enforcers for their new world._

Shoryu huffed; for a moment he thought there might be some genuine moral reasoning behind the war. Being related to evil was bad enough, but evil _and_ moronic? The thought damaged his ego. "They're deluded. That's a dictatorship, no doubt about it," he judged.

_I agree._

"So where do we find them? If Shoren and Masaru are at the head of this then we'll take them out first – then this whole thing will come to an end."

Unit Three Zero Nine Six then showed a glum look. He hung his head and stared down at the table, fidgeting nervously with his fingers. _I'm afraid that's not possible_, he said.

"And why not?" snapped Kazuya.

_They reside on an island out at sea, an island that they mechanised. One week it could be at the borders of the Land of Lightning, the next it could pull up south of the Whirlpool. In addition to that, Masaru has manipulated it using some technique of his Jikogan. Even if you're standing in front of it, the island can only be seen from a certain angle, which he changes daily._

_ Unless you have the proper coordinates you'll never find the island. And even if you did, I'm afraid you would be no match for them. They are both more powerful than any of the five current Kage._

Shoryu bit off a curse, yet in the end it seemed all hope was not lost.

_There is a way, however,_ said the clone. _Your grandfathers remain safe on the island, but most of their children and grandchildren stay in the five nations, leading the clone armies. If we can find Teijo and defeat him, then his Genjutsu would cease to exist. The clones would be useless to Shoren, and you could petition for peace with the other nations._

"Then as soon as we rescue Fujiko and the others, that should be our priority," said Shoryu.

_Of course._

"There is one thing I'm curious about." The commander leaned forward, narrowing his eyes in interest at the strange boy sat before him. "I'm still confused about you. I'm going out on a limb here, but I think I might be right in assuming you managed to free yourself from my uncle's Genjutsu, meaning your mind is your own."

Unit Three Zero Nine Six smiled warmly, almost blushing at the comment. _That is correct. Three years ago – not long after I came into this world – we were involved in a skirmish with the Village Hidden in the Mist. I fell from the high cliffs to the rocky shores below the island's cape. When I awoke, I was severely injured, but for the first time in my life I had control over my own body._

The clone boy then turned his head, motioning to a great scar parting his fair hair at the base of his skull. Over twenty large stitches hatched across the red arc of exposed flesh; he was lucky to survive such an injury. Shoryu cringed as he wondered how painful the boy's surgery was.

_Enough pain can break any Genjutsu_, he went on. _Since they were ignorant of my identity, I was nursed back to health by some kind elders of the village._

"But didn't you say my grandfather has been doing this for decades?" questioned Shoryu. "Surely you can't be the first one to break free? Another clone would've notified us by now."

The clone shook his head. _You're right, I imagine plenty of other clones are free – they'll live normal lives among you, tired of the war._

"Then why haven't they contacted us?"

_You may recall, but I mentioned before that Shoren is particularly gifted in the area of curse marks. He cannot control us directly, but he may seal our lips so that we never betray him. When we are made, he places a curse seal upon our tongues, preventing us from opposing him or telling anyone of his work, regardless of how we do it._

_ Other clones haven't contacted you because they didn't care enough to make a sacrifice. _For the first time in the entire conversation,Unit Three Zero Nine Six opened his mouth, revealing what was underneath. _I cared enough_.

In place of the boy's tongue was nothing but a stump – a jagged flipper still scarred where he'd sawed it off with what appeared to be a kunai knife. Shoryu tried not to wince at the grotesque injury, as inside he felt nothing but respect. If this boy was telling the truth then he had more courage than any ninja Shoryu had ever encountered. He was no exception; if their places were traded, Shoryu doubted he could sacrifice his own tongue for the greater cause. He'd probably retire somewhere nice and tropical.

Finally the boy closed his mouth, speaking again with nothing but his mind. _I knew that if I tried to communicate using sign language or writing then I'd be killed before I could explain myself. So, for the next three years I trained to speak using this jutsu – one that converses my thoughts. I first tried to locate Kiyoshi Uchiha, but when that failed I agreed to speak to you two. And so, here we are._

"Hmm," Shoryu put a hand to his chin and pondered, taking in all the information. No one talked for some time, as the clone had given them more than they could've hoped for. At the very least, now they had a chance to strike back; no more being at the mercy of an enemy they knew nothing about. "So this place you mentioned – where Fujiko and the others are being held. Is it far?"

The boy shook his head. _It's a research facility in the Land of Sound. I don't know what happens there, but I know exactly where it is. It should take a week for a small group of us to get there._

Shoryu nodded. They could just force the location out of him and go alone, but something about this kid conveyed trust – like he was prepared to do anything to get back at his former captors. The commander got to his feet and turned, prompting his allies to do the same. "Then we'll set off tomorrow," he said. "You don't mind if I pass this information along to those outside do you?"

Again the clone gave a shake. _No, be my guest. I'd have to explain myself twenty times over if you didn't._

"Then I'll see you at dawn. In the meantime I'll make sure you aren't mistreated."

_Thank you._

With their conversation at an end Shoryu gave two loud raps on the steel door containing them. Reizo opened up and ushered them back inside, sparing a glace to the blank-faced clone sat staring at the table.

Right away Shoryu got to work relaying all the information given to him by Unit Three Zero Nine Six; everything from his and Kazuya's lineage, to the slavery of the clone race, right up to Shoren and Masaru's intentions for the ninja world.

As this happened the Raikage gave Kazuya and Ayako permission to leave as the other ninja listened on in interest. The Hokage in particular seemed enthralled by the tale, never realising his prized Uchiha had such a dark past behind him. The two Kage nodded every now and again as events previously a mystery to them became clear. Even Saito looked intrigued by the Senmatsu family, as did every ninja in the room.

The suspicions began when Shoryu recalled the story of how the clone escaped the clutches of Teijo's Genjutsu. Ninja shuffled uncomfortably and whispered to one another, until eventually the Zawa clan leader decided to speak up – yet another chance to embarrass Shoryu.

"That's quite a grand tale," remarked Saito. "What shocks me more is that you believed his every word."

Shoryu bit his lip at the first retort that came to mind. He thought of another, but when he opened his mouth to speak Hatori the sensory ninja cut him off.

"He wasn't lying about being a clone; that much I know for sure. What's more, his chakra patterns indicate sincerity, and his actions are not those of someone trying to play us. What does he stand to gain by being here? To deceive us? It seems like too much of a complicated story for him to think up on his own, and he doesn't exactly have our trust as it is. He knows we'd be wary."

"Exactly," said Shoryu. "He's not clear of suspicion, but it seems more likely that he's telling the truth. Even if he _is_ leading us into a trap, we'll still learn where one of their strongholds is."

Saito curled his lip to a snarl at being bested again by a youngster. He couldn't say what he wanted with the two Kage in the room, so he shrank into the shadows against the wall, biding his time for when another time for criticism came.

Now that he had enough information, the Hokage decided to act. Hiromasa Hyuga took centre stage, his tall physique and cold eyes allowing him to capture the attention of everyone present. He removed his hat, the movement causing his robe to sway as he played his hand.

"Do what you will, but a squadron of my men will join that clone boy tomorrow. I want to get to the bottom of this. If we happen across any of your men, I'll see them returned to you safely," he promised.

"Sir." Shoryu hopped forward, giving a slight bow to his old sensei. "I'd like permission to go with them as well."

"And if I said no?" Reizo asked, arching an eyebrow. It seemed he knew that Shoryu planned to disobey him, but that didn't stop the young commander from telling the truth.

"Kazuya is going regardless, and he's not going without me," confessed Shoryu, meeting the Kage's eyes.

The Raikage gave a sigh and palmed his head; after knowing the boy for so long he couldn't possibly refuse such a request. Reizo turned to the Hyuga, his eyes flashing with zeal. "You think I'd leave all this up to the Land of Fire? Not on your life Hiromasa. I'll send a team to accompany yours."

The Hokage smiled.

"But it seems most of my elite ninja are out at war. . ." Reizo pretended to consider for a moment, before his shout snapped the boy to attention. "Shoryu! You've submitted your candidacy to become a Jonin right?"

Shoryu paused; was the Raikage really saying what he thought? "Yes sir," he replied. "But I didn't think-"

"-Good, then as of now you're promoted."

Shoryu couldn't believe his ears. _Me? A Jonin? _The thought echoed around his mind a dozen times over. That Reizo trusted him this much was a testament to everything he'd achieved up until now. The missions would be harder, he'd become tougher, and of course, he'd be much better paid. Already Shoryu began to plan what he'd spend all his money on.

Saito opened his mouth in protest, but his son cut him off. "Shoryu, I'll assign you five officers along with thirty Genin and Chunin that you can pick up from the divisions along the way. You'll represent your country and keep this mission covert, and if you succeed then I'll let you keep that rank."

The newly-named Jonin nodded vigorously. "I won't let you down, but if I may-" Shoryu paused, not wanting to push his luck. When Reizo appeared curious he continued. "I already have five other specialists in mind that I trust, and as for infantrymen, I know of a certain flock of samurai who are eager to join our cause. Our divisions are scarce on men already."

Reizo chuckled to himself and nodded. "Do as you will, I'm trusting your initiative on this one Shoryu. Use today to make your preparations – I'll send you a briefing before nightfall, and make sure you get some sleep for tomorrow."

Shoryu agreed, smiling, and turned to leave. He didn't need any more prompts; the Kage had business to attend to and so did he. Armed with nothing but information, the Jonin suddenly couldn't help but feel they stood more of a chance now than ever before. An urge swept over him to get out there and fight – to prove himself against the odds his wretched families had stacked against him.

Commanding a smaller unit would be different to ordering a large division, but with a slight change in tactics Shoryu felt he could make it work. Whatever the case, he didn't doubt that this mission would be one to remember, for better or for worse.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Well there you have it. It only took twenty nine chapters, but finally we know what the hell is going on. This chapter answered a LOT of the big questions – in fact I think the only major mystery left is how Shoryu and Kazuya's fathers died.

So yes, it seems that Shoryu's _grandfather _is actually the one creating these clones, and that his jutsu is so powerful that he can actually create life, using Shoryu's uncle Teijo to control it. We've also tied together Kiyoshi Uchiha, Kamiko Honami and all the others, although I'm aware that it might have gotten a little confusing back there.

For that reason I decided to draw up and post the Senmatsu family tree on my page. It's not supposed to be the exact one that our clone friend had, just something I made in Paint. I'd recommend giving it a look. Hopefully it does a good job of explaining who is who and which members have Alpha Genes and Jikogans.

And of course, Shoryu got promoted. It was a long time coming really. For us it might only be six chapters since his last one, but for him it's been four years, most of which he spent commanding a legion of ninja. Until next time guys!


	30. Chapter 30 Samurai Rendezvous

Chapter 30: Samurai Rendezvous 

"_EH? _A _Jonin_?"

"Yup." Shoryu shrugged. Whatever meaning Ayako attached to the title he didn't. It wasn't an accurate gauge of strength – she and Kazuya were just as powerful as he was, and the Sixth Hokage himself was one of the most powerful known forces in the world whilst still technically a Genin. It was just a word. Sure, the extra pay was nice, but Shoryu failed to see exactly why he should be treated any differently.

Just as they'd promised, Hoshi, Jinga and Yuudai turned up at the foot of the chutes after being contacted right away. Unit Three Zero Nine Six came as well, and to Kazuya's disdain he was the first to arrive out of all of them. Now only the ninja from the Land of Fire were missing. Shoryu resumed his conversation as he awaited their arrival.

"Urgh." Ayako buried her hands in her hair, today a mesmerising shade of blue. "Overtaking me again. I'll never be Raikage at this pace."

"You're seventeen, not seventy," said Shoryu. "You've got plenty of time."

"There have been younger Kage in the past!"

"True, but they've been older ones more often than not. Look at Reizo-sensei, I mean he's only. . ." Shoryu trailed off, gazing up at the clouds wrapped around his village. "How old is he again?"

"Twenty-eight," said Ayako.

"Like I said: plenty of time."

Ayako sighed wearily and leaned against the rock face. She gave an absentminded check of her scrolls before letting it drop, muttering something like 'I guess you're right'. In her search for new conversation topics Ayako let her eyes wander the clearing. Kazuya, sat brooding at the hilltop, was a subject she avoided. There was only so much they could do to spur him on, and if this mission went successfully he'd be back to his old self in no time at all.

Instead Ayako diverted her attention to the young clone, sitting wordlessly away from the group. Openly admitting he was of their enemy's race gave them a cause to dislike him, yet there was something about his distant, pure persona that invited trust. In human years he didn't look any older than fifteen, but was that his true age? Yesterday he claimed to be only three years old.

"What do you make of him then?" she asked, nodding his way.

Shoryu turned to inspect him. "We've got no choice but to trust him, he's our only lead." It was a sad truth.

"There's something eerie about his voice don't you think? He should sound much older."

Shoryu had considered it too; despite appearing as a teenager, Unit Three Zero Nine Six's voice was that of a child. "I've got a theory about that," he admitted.

"Oh?"

"He uses his mind to speak right? I think he cut out his tongue before his regular voice would've matured," Shoryu explained. "Since he speaks telepathically, he can only communicate in the voice he remembers having."

"Ahh." Ayako nodded. "Makes sense."

As they waited Shoryu took out the briefing he'd received just a few hours ago, one handwritten by the Raikage himself. His orders were simple, to meet up with both the Hidden Leaf ninja and the southern samurai to raid the clone encampment in the Land of Sound. Hatori had vouched for the clone's credibility, and Saito Yukizawa confirmed that the area was secure – already Shoryu began to question _that _little piece of information.

Their primary objective was to rescue any surviving ninja from the Lands of Lightning and Fire, and to defeat any members of the Senmatsu family they might come across. What interested Shoryu however was their secondary objective: to bring back any useable material that might indicate the intentions of this base.

It made sense; after all, the Senmatsu family had never been interested in kidnapping ninja until now - their only objective was normally to kill. Unit Three Zero Nine Six mentioned that it was a research facility, but he had no knowledge of what exactly it researched. It seemed Reizo and Hiromasa were just as eager to find out as he was.

After re-reading its contents for a third time Shoryu rolled up the mission briefing and shoved it in his pocket. While they had time he figured he'd to spend another few moments with their clone friend. Part of him wanted to scout for any signal that he might be a traitor, and the other part was fascinated by him.

When Shoryu approached the clone stood firm to attention, meeting his stare without a flinch.

"Free, you got a moment?" Shoryu asked.

The boy arched an eyebrow. _Free? _He asked, his young voice echoing across Shoryu's mind.

"You don't seem to have a name of your own, and it's kinda grating having to call you 'Three Zero Nine Six' all the time, so I'm altering it – or shortening it really. I thought 'Free' might be a little more fitting. If that's okay with you."

_Free. . . _The clone repeated the name over a few times, and each time his smile grew wider. _I like it, thank you_.

"Don't mention it." As he spoke Shoryu watched Free's face for any trace of deceit. There was none – he seemed genuinely happy at the prospect of having a name. Then again, the best ninja could always conceal their true feelings. When the boy got over the elation Shoryu began again, "So anyway, do you know whether or not there'll be any Senmatsu at this place we're going to?"

_I can't say for certain, though I believe Madoka will be there._

"Figures," muttered Shoryu. He shook away the image of the kidnapper who'd lead the assault against them. "She beat us once, but I still think we've got a chance. In a closed space she can't use that technique to escape."

_That move is only the tip of the iceberg as far as her Jikogan is concerned – she's powerful_, said Free.

"Yeah, but so am I, and so are they." Shoryu jerked his head towards Kazuya, now meditating in silence. "And _he's_ on another level. I'd feel sorry for Madoka – managing to piss him off. Take it from me, you don't want to get on his bad side."

_Noted_, said Free. He studied the samurai for a few moments before suddenly blurting out: _Is it true you've got a dragon?_

Shoryu laughed, taken aback by the sudden question. At first he suspected his enemy was feigning interest to gather information. Then again, Kyoh was no secret – even ninja from other divisions had heard of the one commander who rode into battle on dragonback. "That's right," he answered.

_I only ever saw one once. When I came into this world, there was one guarding our island – Teijo's dragon. I heard he has a few._

Shoryu shook his head. "Impossible," he said. "Save from me, my father was the only one in recent history to form a blood seal with them."

_I never knew that. But I saw what I saw. It makes sense when you think about it – who do you suppose the Puppeteer got them from?_

Shoryu considered for a moment. Teijo had been the one to slaughter his father – when Shoichi refused to adhere to his family's methods his own brother had been dispatched to kill him. Teijo's Genjutsu was second to none – he needed only a touch to take total control of his target's mind. It was safe to assume that creatures were affected by it the same as humans; he must've stolen Shoichi's dragons from him the moment they were summoned.

It was unfortunate, but at least it gave him hope for the future. For years Shoryu assumed Kyoh was the last of his kind – that somehow the dragons were all but extinct. If they could beat Teijo then the Genjutsu would fall; the dragons would be free again to repopulate their species.

"Kyoh should be pleased to know that he's not alone. I'll tell him next time we're in training," said Shoryu at last.

Free smiled. _That's good to hear._

A bang interrupted their conversation as several chutes from the clouds plummeted to the surface. Ninja from the Land of Fire began to spill out onto the broken stone, led by a boy Shoryu had seen the previous day. He yawned and stretched out like a cat, then gave a look at his own mission briefing.

"I gotta go now, but let me just tell you one thing," said Shoryu, turning back to the boy.

The clone tilted his head, his eyes wide open in interest.

"If it turns out you're legit – if your story checks out, then I'll make damn sure you get to live comfortably – no being a guinea pig or living underground for the rest of your life. You'll be able to live however you want. However. . ." Shoryu's eyes lowered to a glower as he delivered the next part of his speech - the important part. "If you're lying to us then I swear to you, Kazuya will be the least of your problems."

Despite Shoryu's rare look of seriousness, Free's expression changed very little. He looked to the floor and nodded his head_. . ._ _Of course. I'd expect nothing less, _he said.

Convinced that he'd made his point, Shoryu turned and strolled over to the Leaf's commander.

A year or so younger than Shoryu, this new Jonin sported a crown of flaming orange hair, spiked up to put a slight grin and a pair of icy blue eyes on display. A billowing jacket of the darkest black flapped down to his heels, lined with orange borders a shade darker than his hair. Kunai and shuriken poked from a weapons holster strapped to his right thigh – a textbook Leaf ninja.

He waved his men over with a lazy gesture, yawned one more time and drew himself up to full height before addressing the boy.

"So you're Shoryu huh?" he asked.

"That's me. . ." Shoryu waited for the boy to introduce himself as well. When he didn't: "And you are? . ."

"Oh, Commander Hotaru Shoharu at your service," announced the boy, proudly sticking his thumb towards himself.

"You're late," Shoryu noted. He was so nervous about this mission it gave him cause to worry; could this boy be trusted? He _was _a Jonin and a Commander, but how strong was he really? Could they count on him?

"You know how hard it is sleeping in a foreign bed?" asked Hotaru. "It's awful; I had to get all I could, we can't save the world on a few hours' sleep now can we?"

In spite of himself Shoryu laughed. Hotaru had a point. After all, their target wasn't going anywhere – whether he slept in or not, it made no difference. "Yeah, I guess you can't," he added, still chuckling.

"You're not one of those take-charge, power obsessed, follow-the-rules type of commanders are you? Because if you are then we aren't exactly going to get along."

Shoryu glanced about to find Ayako, who shrugged in return. Kazuya said nothing; apparently neither of them wished to answer, so he spoke what he felt to be the truth. "Nah," he said. "I think I can be pretty liberal."

"_Liberal _huh?" Hotaru raised an eyebrow. "Now there's a word for people who read more books than I did."

"As long as we get the job done, I really don't care how we do it," Shoryu explained. Since he and this boy shared responsibility, one thing bugged him. It was a redundant question; anyone with a speck of pride would answer accordingly, but he still had to ask. "So, you strong?"

"You bet I am!"

"Hmm." As cunningly as he dared, Shoryu feigned a tone that conveyed indifference, like nothing Hotaru said would convince him of his power. Unfortunately the young commander saw through his ruse, yet it seemed his cockiness compelled him to go along with it anyway.

"Oh? We're playing that game are we?" This time both his eyebrows shot up as a bloodthirsty look took over him.

"I have no idea what you mean," said Shoryu, feigning ignorance.

"I'm not a total idiot. Any day now the war might become so great that our countries go to war," he said. "You just want to scope out the competition – to get a glimpse of your enemy's capabilities."

For a third time Shoryu laughed. Admittedly, he _did _consider that an added bonus. "You got me." He threw up his arms in resignation.

"Then again, nothing wrong with a healthy show of strength to give your men some morale right? Tell you what, I'll show you mine if you show me yours. You've got nothing to hide right?"

Shoryu continued to stare at the boy as a deathly silence passed between the two of them. Five seconds elapsed; to him, those five seconds were slower than any Kazuya had ever experienced, but in the end he gave a smirk. All hell broke loose in an instant as both ninja weaved out a multitude of hand signs. As Shoryu palmed the ground and Hotaru formed his final seal a cloud of smoke enveloped the clearing.

Coughs from the legion of Genin and Chunin sounded through the commotion. Only Kazuya didn't move, still suspended in meditation as he prepared for the battle ahead. When the smoke cleared however, even he opened his eyes.

Stood between the crowd of ninja the two fighters remained poised. Shoryu sat atop his prized summon, both katana ablaze with a mixture of wind and fire-based chakra. Hotaru meanwhile had no creature, yet at the same time looked just as formidable.

Walls of flame topped with a wispy orange mist sprang up in a full circle around him. The air before him distorted, broken by a visible heat wave that made it hard to keep see where exactly the two trench knives in his hands were. Serrated and sharpened to a point, his two weapons slotted perfectly onto his gloves, glowing white with the heat.

"Not bad," said Shoryu.

"Yeah, they don't call me the Leaf's Phoenix for nothing. But you're not so bad yourself. I wonder whose flames burn hotter, mine or your dragon's."

"Think your fire could match _mine_ human?" Kyoh rumbled, clearly offended by the ninja's flippant comment.

"Who knows?" Hotaru shrugged. "I wouldn't mind trying someday though."

As he spoke Hotaru allowed his flames to simmer out, and after sensing no danger Shoryu did the same. He sent Kyoh back to his home in a puff of smoke and sheathed both blades. Once both his arms were free again, he found Hotaru's hand extended before him. He shook it without hesitation.

"I think we're going to get along just fine," said Hotaru.

Shoryu gave a curt nod in response, and after deeming it enough the Leaf's commander turned and called to his merry troop of ninja.

"Alright guys let's go!"

As a single unit the Leaf ninja took off, perfectly synchronised to follow their captain's path at perilous speeds down the steep mountain slope. They left the seven remaining in a smog of dust as Kazuya finally got to his feet. Looks of bewilderment crossed each ninja; even Free looked troubled by the bizarre attitude of their new ally.

Hoshi approached, calm and stoic as always. "What was all that about? You know, he could be a problem," she said.

Smiling, Shoryu shook his head. "I like him," he decided suddenly. "We'll be fine."

"But if he makes a racket then any covert entry we attempt would be ruined," said Ayako. It was a valid point, but one that Shoryu had already taken into account.

"We're taking a band of samurai with us," he reminded her. "Just what chance of stealth do you reckon we have?" Shoryu took a moment to let the knowledge sink in for his friends – the knowledge that they'd walk into an unidentified base in full force. "Once we're inside we'll know exactly how many there are, and whether or not we can win."

"But by then it'll be too late to turn back," Jinga realised.

"Exactly, it's win or die here. You can still back out if you want to."

No one said a word, even as Kazuya stared down each of them in turn.

"Good. Then we'd better get moving too – we need to catch up. As strong as Hotaru might be, I don't think he's realised that without Free he has no idea where he's going."

* * *

Three Days Later

Forty-odd men moving through the trees would normally attract attention, but forty-odd ninja whizzing by could easily be mistaken might easily be mistaken for a passing gust of wind. The difficult part was stopping themselves from getting involved upon witnessing the dozen passing skirmishes, most of which the Cloud seemed to be losing. Each time Shoryu felt compelled to join the vanguard and do whatever he could, but such a move was against his orders - they had to press on no matter what they saw. The troop passed undetected through the Land of Lightning, spending their nights in first a damp mountain, then a sprawling canyon, then finally a dense forest.

Overcast clouds robbed the sky of stars and freshly fallen snow quilted the ground at their feet, somewhat masking the scent of the fresh pines littered about the clearing. Its presence told them they were getting closer to the Village Hidden in the Glacier, but how much closer only Kazuya knew. Its location was so remote that only its inhabitants could find it without a map.

Sat around a fire entertaining his men sat Hotaru. Whatever he may have been, Shoryu could at least see that his leadership skills were second to none. He laughed and joked and passed around food to alleviate the rising tension about the camp.

Seeing it from the outside proved to be captivating to Shoryu. Just one passing glance proved beyond any doubt that Hotaru's ninja had total faith in him, trust built over years of fighting on the frontlines day after day. They'd live and die for him just as he would for them.

Shoryu liked to think he commanded the same kind of respect, though in actuality he had no idea. He supposed Ayako and the others wouldn't follow him here if they didn't think he could lead them to victory, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. The doubt annoyed him to no end, so much so that when he and Ayako were charged with gathering firewood, he could think of nothing else the entire time.

"Hey Ayako," he asked out of the blue. "Was I a good commander?"

The girl only laughed, "Good one, oh yeah you sucked."

"I wasn't joking."

"Hm?" This time Ayako's face sobered. "What happened to all that confidence?"

"Honestly?" Shoryu breathed a sigh, placing both hands behind his back as he sank against a tree. "I think it died along with most of my men."

"Don't talk like that!" she insisted. "We've been over this already! You need to move on Shoryu. You seemed fine enough the other day."

"I was saving face. No sense bringing you all down; someone has to believe in me, even if I don't."

Even Ayako found it hard to conceal her worry. She hadn't seen him like this in years, back when he was the scrawny runt of the litter with no achievements to his name. "Did you speak to Kazuya about this?"

"Nah. He's got bigger problems at the moment don't you think?" said Shoryu.

"Then how about I spill it out for you? What happened wasn't your fault. You took up that rank when no one wanted it – even though you hate responsibility – all because Reizo-sensei asked you to. Every man and woman in Division Two was grateful to you for keeping them together and alive for so long."

Shoryu scoffed, "That hardly lasted did it?"

"So all those years just meant nothing? Shoryu, we're at war. It sucks but people die. Those ninja wouldn't have been there if they weren't prepared to make that sacrifice – they _chose _to defend their country, and most of them were happy to have someone like you at the frontlines with them."

The Jonin took a moment to take in Ayako's words. If what she said was true then he had nothing to worry about – all those people serving under him had no qualms about going to their death, and they wouldn't resent him for it. It was an encouraging thought, and it cheered him a little, though he suspected he'd never have his solace until this mission was over, one way or another.

Still, Shoryu gave a smile and pressed up from the tree. "You know I couldn't have done it without you."

"Awww." Ayako cocked her head and made a face. "Is Shoryu getting sentimental now?"

"I'm just saying! You make it sound like I did all the legwork! I'd be dead if it weren't for you!"

"I _did _save your ass once or twice."

"Well yeah, there's that, plus the fact that _yours_ actually gives me something to admire on the battlefield. Keeps me going y'know?"

At this Ayako giggled, modestly covering her mouth as her sweet laughter filled the air. "That's more like it. You almost sound back to normal," she said afterward.

Shoryu shrugged, whistling innocently as he gave a glance around. "You know there's no one around here right? I'm thinking-"

"-Save those thoughts for your dreams big shot." Still laughing, Ayako gave him a playful shove as both returned to collecting firewood, this time in much higher spirits. The pair bantered for a while, barely taking notice of how many sticks filled their arms. In truth Shoryu figured they had enough, but these days he seized any excuse for time with her. With his best friend in a stupor of depression he had no one else close to him but Ayako, and though he'd never admit it, his feelings for her had begun to intensify lately. After seeing what happened with Kazuya and Fujiko, Shoryu quickly developed the urge to seize what he already cherished.

Their gathering was cut short when the two walked through an incredibly familiar set of trees. Since déjà vu passed between each of them, Shoryu deduced that they must've both been here before, a theory confirmed by the next opening in the trees.

It was a minor piece of evidence – something that would barely register to any passers-by. A red mark, faded with time, had been blasted into a single unremarkable fern, leaving a circular denture six inches deep into the tree. It took Shoryu a few seconds to realise what it was, but Ayako noticed immediately.

"Hey," she said. "I made that mark! This is where I fought with Fujiko four years ago."

"I remember that." Shoryu thought fondly of the memories of his youth. In a time without war, those missions with Squad Thirteen had been the best of his life.

"I guess we must be real close to the village then."

"Right, let's go tell Kazuya."

* * *

It was past midnight by the time a hooded man reached the bottom of the glacial drop. By then the clouds had broken apart, revealing moonlight so intense that it lit up sections of the glacier in a deep blue glow. Shadows shifted about the multitude of thatched, straw houses, and as always the mist meandered through the paths and over bridges like a snake.

The village was asleep. Only a few dim candles shone from the windows of the visible homes. The chimneys gave their final puffs of smoke to the night, courtesy of a few smouldering coals left in the fireplaces.

As its name implied, what characterised this village most of all was the temperature, so cold that in winter, sweat drops froze on the faces of training samurai. In severe snowstorms one could remove their gloves to scratch their nose and end up losing a finger. It was a calm night, but mid-October in the glacier was still nothing to sniff at.

It had been a long time since the man came here, so long that it took some getting used to. He pulled his jacket tighter and hugged his body as he made his way underneath the giant arch of ice that loomed like a gate over the village. He removed them, however, when he noticed the two sentries stood at the foot of the only watchtower – the entrance inside. He couldn't show them any sign of weakness.

As soft and soundless as the snow beneath them the man managed to walk right up to the two samurai before they noticed him. Startled by his sudden appearance, the pair drew their blades in perfect synchronism.

"Not another step!" one said.

"Who goes there?" demanded the other.

The man gave them a few moments to think about their actions before lifting his head. Moonlight spilled across his sombre expression in an instant to illuminate the familiar face, eyes flashing to a dangerous spiral.

"_L-Lord Kazuya!_" The two men dropped to their knees and sheathed their katana. One of them fumbled so much that he ended up missing the scabbard and nicking his thumb on the blade, such was his surprise that their future leader had come to see them.

"Forgive us my lord," begged the second. "We were not informed of your arrival."

"There's nothing to forgive. Get on your feet; you know how I feel about all these frivolities."

At Kazuya's request they leapt back up to his eye-level as fast as their legs would permit them. The first scratched his head, clearly unsure of what to do with him at such a late hour.

"I need to speak with Bishamon," said Kazuya.

The two samurai spared each other a nervous look. Eventually the man with the bleeding thumb spoke, "He'll no doubt be in bed at this hour my lord. We'll find a nice room for you, and then we can see him in the morning."

"He'll be awake," Kazuya said as he pushed past. "I'd like some privacy, make sure no one enters his quarters."

"C-Certainly my lord!"

Without another word the samurai set off down the familiar winding paths of his home. Here and there sculptures and monuments propped up from the half-frozen streams, decorating the place with a look of splendour. There was one in particular – that displayed the names of each Taisho of the Takashi clan; Kazuya noticed it had been updated. It wasn't finished yet, but the first few characters of his name had already been etched into the stonework, courtesy of the village's master stonemasons.

After passing through a final column of mist Kazuya finally reached the centre of the village, a small shrine of white columns that housed the Taisho. As he predicted, the lights were still on, and the powerful smell of incense drifted through an open window: Bishamon was still awake.

Kazuya took a moment to steel himself; professional meetings with the Taisho had always been awkward. He'd been raised as virtually the man's son, yet that was precisely why business matters and disagreements came at such high a cost. The samurai slowed his breathing to calm down, his every exhale in the chill a small mist that fled to the darkness. Once he was ready, Kazuya rapped hard on the door.

Bishamon answered almost immediately; Kazuya had never seen him look any worse. Though still a giant hulking machine of a human being, Bishamon Takashi looked tired beyond his years. Bags formed under heavily lidded eyes, and his every movement seemed sluggish compared to its usual spring. It seemed he hadn't slept in days; Kazuya wondered how much he'd had since Fujiko was kidnapped, if any.

"Kazuya!" Even in such a state, the Taisho's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the sight of his beloved successor. "Come in, come in!"

The samurai bowed before doing as instructed. He settled to a plush seat surrounding a boiling pot of broth, its scent mixing with the incense from the next room. Although he'd never been particularly spiritual man, it didn't take a mastermind to spot that Bishamon had been praying – clutching at any hope he could.

"I won't do you the dishonour of avoiding the issue, so I'll get straight to the point," said Kazuya. He tried a tone normally unthinkable to use towards a Taisho, yet Bishamon's silence prompted him to continue. "You told me that when the time comes to rescue Fujiko you'd lend me all your strength."

Bishamon's mouth hung open; it seemed he didn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"Well we think we found her, so I've come here to take you up on your offer."

"We?" questioned the samurai.

"The ninja of the Cloud – the Leaf too."

"The ninja have been trying to get us on their side for years. Did they simply send you here to use me - in the guise of rescuing Fujiko? Why not come here themselves? Do you fight all their battles?" said Bishamon.

Kazuya shook his head. "I suggested the alliance. And you know how well our two worlds get along. Me leading a battalion of ninja down here in the middle of the night might not end well for either party. I came to check whether you'd be cooperative."

Bishamon looked thoughtful. He'd be forced to compromise his principles in exchange for a chance at seeing his daughter again; Kazuya watched as his mind suddenly jumped to another predictable alternative.

"We can handle this ourselves," he decided. "You can lead us to her can't you?"

"Impossible." Kazuya shook again. "Only one person knows where she is, and he's in the custody of the ninja. I don't think we could survive going there alone anyway; more than anything, I think this is how it _should _be done. I don't need a reason to go there and save her, but if doing so with the ninja could help us end this war then I'll take all the help I can get."

"The ninja started this damn war, they can get themselves out of it. And you want to get us involved?" Bishamon snorted in disapproval.

"Not us, just me – I'm only sorry you have to be dragged into this, but the ninja believe that going here might get us one step closer to putting a stop to this – all of it."

"And why does a samurai care for the outcome of the Fifth Shinobi World War?" said Bishamon.

"I've seen it every day for the last four years – I've seen how many people it has claimed – how many families it ruined," Kazuya explained. "We'd be better off without it."

"Liar." Bishamon saw through the falsehood immediately. Kazuya might've been able to read him perfectly, but apparently the inverse was also true. "Samurai are bred for war. Enjoying it is a part of _being_ samurai, and you don't strike me as anything else."

Distant and vaguely amused, Kazuya permitted himself a smile. The Glacier's leader called him out perfectly; he stared down at the boy with eyes cold as winter, his gargantuan figure casting a shadow so intimidating that Kazuya couldn't bear to lie anymore.

"Alright, but this might be a little embarrassing," he said. "Bishamon, do you still believe in the old ways?"

"The old ways?" The Taisho looked confused. "The old ways say we ought to kill ourselves at the shame of losing a battle – they're old for a reason."

"Surely you still hold some of the ideals though. There's one in particular that I can't shake: that a man inherits the sins of his ancestors. . ." Kazuya paused, the image of those vile people running through his mind. "My family started this wretched war. . . As far as I'm concerned, if it's in my power, then I've got a duty to end it. . ."

Bishamon suddenly stood, walked a few paces about the room, and then gazed from the open window at the Village he ruled. Kazuya froze as rigid as the glacier itself, plastered into his seat, waiting anxiously for the answer of his mentor. For once Bishamon was unreadable; not a single hint of emotion crossed his face as he stared out.

The kettle of broth began to bubble. The ice caking the inside of the window began to melt with Bishamon's breath. He stood there for a while, too wrapped up in his thoughts to speak – Kazuya on the other hand was too scared.

Eventually the Taisho acted, whirling around as he drew his blade in a manner fitting of his status. He looked like a leader now; zeal and vigour returned to his eyes, previously abandoned in his stupor of self-pity. Kazuya's heartbeat tripled as he prayed for his answer.

"I'll rally the men at daybreak. If fighting with the ninja is what it takes to save Fujiko then I'll do it, and if you think it's the best option then I'll trust your judgement. In a few months you'll be Taisho. You'll be the one making decisions for every man, woman and child in this village. I say it's about time you prove you're ready."

The time for words was over. Kazuya stood and drew his blade, lightly touching its edge to Bishamon's. Everything went as well as he'd hoped; he'd successfully recruited the samurai he promised to Shoryu, and his own Taisho would be at the battle's forefront. For one brief, fleeting instant, Kazuya pitied the Senmatsu.

* * *

Four Days Later

When Kazuya showed up with thirty samurai at his heels the camp was in shock. Shoryu and Hotaru each greeted the Taisho humbly, with Shoryu silently hoping none would realise he was the same boy who'd gone to the Glacier and tried his hardest to show up Kazuya all those years ago.

A handful of fights broke out within the ranks, yet thankfully Bishamon and Kazuya were as strict with their men as the only the most domineering sensei. Any attempt to topple their alliance – anything that could put Fujiko's rescue in jeopardy – was instantly quashed by her husband or father with a stern show of discipline.

Unfortunately Kazuya's command meant that Shoryu saw little of him over the following four days. A system had been quickly worked out to avoid the samurai giving their position away; such was their fervour and love for intense battles.

As they passed through the lands of Snow, Hot Water and finally Sound, five ninja would scout two miles ahead for any traps and enemy legions that might bar their way. At the same time their small army of ninja and samurai would trail behind, Kazuya at its vanguard following the trail left by Shoryu – one of the five scouts.

Also assigned were Ayako, Hotaru, Hoshi and surprisingly, Free. They stayed within eyeshot of one another at all times as they dashed their way along the rolling hills and shadowy canopies of the Land of Sound.

For Shoryu it quickly became one of the most unsettling places he'd ever visited. Strange noises from thickets at dusk were only the tip of the iceberg – the whole place seemed to suffocate them, its gnarled trees bowing down as if to close their path before them. Here it never got any brighter than a bleak dawn, staying cloudy and shaded until night finally fell.

The Land of Sound's past as a hideout for criminals wasn't hard to spot. The scouts often came across abandoned, well-hidden facilities, along with caches of weapons and chemicals unknown to even Jinga. Tunnels and catacombs went on for miles – labyrinths on such a scale that Shoryu reckoned the biggest ones might take whole a year to map out.

Hotaru mentioned that Orochimaru, the Leaf's famous traitor, made his hideouts here, silently taking over the whole country without the rest of the world noticing. Upon hearing this Free even suggested that their destination might even be one of Orochimaru's abandoned facilities – one that the Senmatsu had somehow managed to uncover.

Woods, savannahs and tunnels however paled in comparison to the challenge of the bog. A swamp, ashen grey and bubbling with stink, was presented to them on the following afternoon. Manoeuvring in the muck became an ordeal; as the five ninja waded through sludge Shoryu suspected an ambush at any moment.

It was simply too inconvenient an obstacle. Wall and water-walking techniques only made the grime reach their ankles rather than knees, making every step a test of endurance across a thousand metres of open marshland. Every strange noise made Shoryu jolt, convinced an enemy ninja was about to spring from the swamp and bury a kunai in his skull.

Even with all Shoryu's paranoia, they managed across it without incident. As the commander waded through, panting and sweating head to heel, he suddenly came to a useless realisation: they should've waited. Kazuya's samurai could all use the Ice Style, meaning it would be child's play for them forge a path. Instead they'd walked all the way through, soaking and soiling their feet whilst exhausting themselves in the process.

Once he was at the other side Shoryu hauled himself onto dry land in a heap – the swamp took as much out of him as a day of training. Hotaru had already landed; he looked only marginally better off, still guzzling from his flask by the shore as he enjoyed his well-earned rest. Finally Shoryu's anxieties calmed; if they were attacked in the middle of the swamp it would spell doom for them all, but they'd made it safely across.

_AYAKO! Down!_

A scream inside his head made Shoryu duck for cover and whirl his eyes around. Ayako dropped just in time too – just in time to avoid a flurry of senbon flying at her right flank. A troop of over fifty clones had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Perhaps they hid in the underbrush or used some jutsu to conceal them; whatever the case, all Shoryu knew was that they were under attack.

He understood their plan immediately, cursing himself for not seeing it sooner. They wouldn't attack in the swamp; it was there simply to slow them down – to tire them out so that when they emerged puffing and panting they'd be easy prey for the opposition. Shoryu realised it too late, yet it seemed Free had been on his guard the whole time. He'd just saved Ayako's life.

"_Form up!_" roared Hotaru.

Within moments all five ninja had forgotten fatigue and flocked together like a defensive pack of wolves. Ayako's orange clapped into existence to shield them all from the next barrage. Projectiles hit the solid wall like a rain on a window, yet they only bounced back to their owners.

"Counter!"

Hoshi loosed three kunai as Shoryu hurled a windmill shuriken.

"_Blue!"_

"_Fire Style: Blaze Darts!"_

_Ninja Art: Pulse Justu!_

A wave of destruction hit the clone legion as a tempest of different attacks. Shoryu's guided shuriken tore through a trio of clones as Ayako's javelins impaled them in turn. Tongues of Hotaru's flame stuck to their mark, superheating the targeted areas to make his enemies unable to fight, whereas Free's sudden blast of mind-powered chakra knocked a dozen to ground like battered dominoes.

"Defend!" cried out Shoryu, quickly adapting to the battle.

"_Fire Style: Pheonix Vortex!_" This time repelling attacks was left to Hotaru. As he formed the final tiger seal a flame burst forth from his very body. It shifted, twisting itself into multitude of shapes before it finally became apparent that it took on the form of its namesake. The bird of flames squawked a high-pitched caw and spread its wings, shrouding the quintet in a burning cloak that sucked in every attack headed its way.

"Again!

More techniques and shuriken surged from the five in the momentary opening, killing a great number before the battalion recovered once more. If nothing else, clones stood firm until the very end. They retaliated with an even greater cluster of jutsu and bladed projectiles, and this time Free took responsibility to defend, stringing together a number of seals and closing his eyes.

_Ninja Art: Seize!_

Shoryu watched in amazement as Free was almost thrown off his feet by an invisible force slamming into him. He skidded back five paces, his glowing palms out in front as though he'd just slowed a charging bull with a handful of lilac chakra. In reality that wasn't far from the truth; through some form of telekinesis Free stopped every attack homing towards them – kunai, fireballs, water shots and strange jutsu Shoryu had never even seen before stopped still in mid-flight.

Visible beads of sweat trickled from Free's temples; Shoryu wondered if he could handle it. To his credit though, when the clone let his arms fall to his sides the storm of attacks mirrored him, dropping harmlessly to the ground.

"Nice!" said Shoryu. Now that the enemy looked positively terrified by their display he felt it time to act. "Ayako, Free, cover us! Charge!"

Shoryu, Hotaru and Hoshi broke the formation without a second thought. They ran as fast as they could, crossing the open expanse of dry grass and darting away from the bolts headed their way, only ignoring those that sailed over their heads.

Sparks of shaded red peppered the vanguard and Free's odd blasts of chakra wrought destruction on whatever battle formation the clones could hold. By the time Shoryu reached them they were as unorganised as amateurs, falling over one another, flailing on the ground or still recovering from the last attack.

Hotaru reached them first, twin trench knives a searing flame as he dived straight into the fray. Thinking he might need help, Shoryu followed closely after. With both swords spiralled each by a vicious gale he hacked at anything that came close. Blades of wind leapt from his swords as he cleared the path with a Cross Slash, then span left to cut the throat of a standing clone.

To his right Shoryu noticed Hoshi. With nothing but her fists she pummelled men into the ground, and after every attack blocked she could add a clone's strength to her own and punch with such force that they often died on impact.

Ahead, Hotaru formed a hand sign to douse half a dozen in his flames. Shoryu ran up to meet him, ducking under punches and deflecting projectiles from the clones left standing. Once he was finally there, the ninja took his place beside the Leaf commander and crossed swords to an x-shape.

"_Cross Slash Jutsu!_"

The effect surprised even Shoryu. As his own cross of bladed arcs combined with Hotaru's flamethrower it produced an effect almost identical to his ninjutsu with Kyoh. The twin crescents set alight, swarmed and accelerated by the heat of the flames as they effortlessly ripped apart a number of clones.

A green claw suddenly protruded from the chest of the man to Shoryu's left as Ayako entered the fray. Surrounded, the three of them held off until Hoshi smashed her way in, followed closely by Free, who entered juggling two clones in the air before slamming them to the ground in backbreaking force.

By forming a circle in the centre of the legion the five ninja stood back to back, defending every angle as they hacked and punched their way through the final wave. Even before Free joined them, the battle was already won. Puffs of smoke sprang up over the field; a mixture of those killed and those taking their own life as Teijo disposed of them without mercy.

Once only a few remained, the five began to break off to finish off any stragglers. Only two faced Shoryu, who met their end as a shuriken ripped through one and a blade cut up the other. It was Hoshi who finished the final clone, her arm of gigantic proportions meeting its face before passing through nothing but smoke and air.

Right as they won Hotaru fell to the ground, spread out his arms and closed his eyes, letting the wind rush through his clothes as he joined the rest in laborious breathing. "Damn right!" he called out. "Bring it on! We can take anything you can throw at us! Try a hundred next time; see if I break a sweat!"

Laughing at his partner's attitude, Shoryu slumped to a sitting position atop a nearby rock. He felt a sudden pride at being a part of the group; everyone had pulled their weight and their teamwork went flawlessly. Even fifty clones didn't stand a chance against them alone.

_That must've been a patrol unit_, informed Free. He assumed a space next to Shoryu as he allowed his breathing to return to normal. _With any luck they still don't know we're coming, but it means we're close – an hour or two's walk at the most._

"Should we look ahead?" asked Hotaru.

_No. We should wait for the rest. We need to restore our chakra and get ready for another fight. Whilst we wait, I would also like to pay my respects._

It seemed Free hadn't reacted with as much enthusiasm at killing clones as Hotaru did. Shoryu could barely believe his eyes when the mousy-haired clone kneeled at the centre of the blood-stained battlefield and bowed his head in respect. With his lips he seemed to be muttering something, yet without a tongue he couldn't speak.

"Are you serious?" said Hoshi. "They just tried to kill us and you want to pay your respects?"

'_They' did not try to kill us, Teijo did. These clones were trapped in their own bodies, unable to move of their own volition_, he explained to her. _Could you imagine what that feels like? _

When Hoshi didn't reply Free nodded, knowing she'd understood. Even Hotaru seemed sorry about unintentionally being so offensive.

_We do not leave behind bodies as you do, so I will mourn my brothers and sisters in my own way. _With this Free began to move his lips soundlessly again in some kind of mantra. He closed his eyes and bowed his head to the ground, remaining in that position for a full five minutes. Shoryu watched him in intrigue; he seemed to be honouring those lost who never had a chance at life, as he did.

_It was unavoidable, I know_. _They were being used,_ he said once he was done. _But that doesn't mean it isn't a shame – all those lives just wasted._

The significance of a clone life seemed to suddenly dawn on Hotaru, who narrowed his eyebrows and nodded thoughtfully as he began to wrap his head around the situation.

"How is it that you're so much stronger than they are?" Ayako asked. Free looked up. As all eyes turned to her she explained, "Well, it's just that we've never come across a clone with that kind of power." It was true; just now during the fight they'd seen him single-handedly dispose of four of his own kind at once using nothing but Taijutsu, and to top it all off his powers were incredible when compared to the average clone.

_I had time with my own mind to train my abilities, something which they lack. Also, Teijo can only use any of his subjects to about eighty percent of their capacity. He doesn't know their jutsu and bodies as he knows his own, so the pinnacle of their strength is out of his reach._

"That explains why he couldn't activate the Seventh Gate with Kamiko," mused the girl.

_That seems likely. We don't know if he's aware of this weakness just yet, but it's something to keep in mind, _said Free.

A soft rumble in the distance like incoming thunder made Shoryu raise a hand to silence the others. As they listened the others began to hear it too, until far over the last hill a body of troops began to appear on the far side of the bog. Kazuya's crimson armour was noticeable even from such a distance as he led the main force of both samurai and ninja alike.

Much to Shoryu's dismay the samurai acted exactly as he suspected. After seeing them talk it over for a few moments, Shoryu watched as Kazuya, Bishamon and a handful of skilled samurai began to freeze the muck before them to create a path. Hotaru groaned at their ease of it; even as a giant legion they crossed the swamp in a third of the time it took the five rapid ninja.

After emerging triumphantly Kazuya marched up to meet them, armour clinking as he clasped hands with Shoryu. At this Bishamon looked surprised; his own heir had forged bonds of what appeared to be brotherhood with a ninja. Still, he said nothing in complaint. Just as promised he'd trust Kazuya wholly; with the Village prospering, Bishamon no longer had any right to question Kazuya's motives or decisions – if his heir thought of Shoryu as a comrade then it was good enough for the Taisho.

"I should've figured you'd take them all for yourself. We heard the battle from afar. . ." Kazuya looked around, taking note of the blood smearing the costumes of each ninja. "I take it we're close."

"Yeah," said Shoryu, "we should be there in a matter of hours, make sure you've got the energy."

"Me? Speak for yourself, are you sure you've got enough chakra left?"

"I'll be back at full strength before we get there."

"Good. I'd hate to leave you so far behind that you don't even get to _see _an enemy."

"Keep dreaming Kazuya – I don't lose so easy."

As Kazuya passed him by and stared over the next rise Shoryu got a good look at his expression. It was faint – innocuous and brief – but Shoryu could've sworn he saw a thin hint of a cheered smile. The samurai gazed to the distance for a few moments, knowing he was close. In those few moments Shoryu quickly understood his friend's change in attitude: If only for an instant, Kazuya allowed himself some hope.

"Alright guys be on your guard!" Shoryu called out, addressing the small army. "There might be more ambushes nearby so keep your eyes open for scouts!"

The Jonin allowed hushed murmurs to descend through the ranks. Five of them had already been attacked. They were approaching the point of no return; everyone sensed it.

"Alright then! If you're all ready then let's go rescue our friends."

* * *

Author's Notes: Here we are folks. Your faithful readership is about to be rewarded, because next time is where shit gets real – those weak of heart turn back now!

Seriously though, I can't wait to write this battle out. Been anticipating for this for a long time – virtually everything after this point is something I've been looking forward to writing. The stakes get higher, the fights get tougher, the tone gets darker and the story gets WAY more dramatic.

Anyhow not much to talk about here. This was one of those exposition chapters that's just necessary for the progression of the story, but the fight was pretty cool and I liked writing Kazuya's little scene.

Free is quickly becoming one of my favourite characters _but it's annoying to write because he speaks like this and I have to press CTRL+I every time he starts and ends his dialogue_. Honestly, I'm not sure how much further I can go without making a mistake – it's just instinct to type speech marks. So yeah, if you notice speech marks on him in the future then that's just me screwing up, and if you could let me know then that would be awesome ^.^ I hate mistakes but they slip through when I'm not paying attention.


	31. Chapter 31 Death and Birth of a Leader

Chapter 31: Death and Birth of a Leader

_We're here._

Shoryu's hand snapped up the moment Free spoke – a signal to those behind him to halt. Kazuya along with rest marched at a solid pace just thirty paces behind him; if the impatient samurai ruined their ambush they'd lose the only advantage they had.

As the grass thinned out into gravel Shoryu snuck ahead to get a better look. He joined the clone, and to his sudden surprise found himself on the lip of a crag, overlooking a great canyon large enough to build whole a village within. Aside from clumps of vegetation and odd rock formations here and there nothing remarkable stood out about the beige terrain: it was the perfect place for a hideout.

Free pointed, and following his finger Shoryu let his eyes wander down the treacherous slope beneath them and over to the adjacent cliff face, almost a hundred metres of open ground away. There, outside a suspiciously placed mound of odd-coloured stone, stood two sentries. Their deathly stillness and constant expressions confirmed to him that they were indeed clones, their minds taken over.

Ayako joined them at the overhang, followed closely by Hotaru.

"I say we charge them." Already the Leaf's Jonin sounded up for a fight.

_No. If they have an alarm system they might trigger it before we can take them out. _

"We can handle this one," said Ayako. She gave her teammate a wink. "Right Shoryu?"

"Yeah." Shoryu nodded. Slipping his hand into his belt, the boy retrieved one of his prized windmill shuriken. He tapped the edge to test its sharpness and spun it around his finger as Ayako shaded a mass of blue between her palms. "On three."

"One," said Ayako, letting the colour solidify.

"Two." Shoryu pitched back his throwing arm.

"Three!" A clap followed a whoosh of rushing metal for a synchronised attack, comprised only of a giant spinning star and a cobalt javelin of compressed chakra. Side by side the two attacks streamed into the canyon, crossing free air in a matter of seconds to hit their targets square between the eyes.

Blood smeared the orange cliff-face, and for a moment the second clone was left impaled to the wall by the solid blue spear impaling his skull. Both exploded in a mist, leaving nothing but the twin bloodstains and Shoryu's shuriken clattering to the ground as evidence that they ever existed to begin with.

Finally Shoryu released the breath he'd been holding. Doing so helped his aim, but more than anything he'd been nervous that any moment the samurai might decide to run forward to attack. He beckoned them with a wave of his arm, and together the battalion made their way down the embankment towards the target.

Without wall-walking abilities a number of samurai slipped upon the perilous footing, yet a scorn from Bishamon or Kazuya ensured that none repeated the same mistake twice. Being out in the open and boxed in by cliffs made Shoryu begin to expect another attack, however this time it turned out to be sheer unfounded paranoia; the enemy was inside.

As they approached the odd-coloured rock Shoryu noticed something he hadn't seen at a distance. It was small, but painted to the rock's apex was the violet symbol of the Senmatsu clan crest. He pretended not to acknowledge it, and Kazuya did the same; right now their only problem was getting in. A legion of over eighty warriors remained parked outside the giant boulder, each as confused as the next.

"Alright, we'll split up into two teams," said Shoryu. "We need ten strong men on each side – one pushes and one pulls. Once we get inside get ready to fight, we've no idea how many are waiting, but our orders are to kill any who oppose us."

Samurai and ninja alike swapped glances and steeled themselves for the battle. Among themselves they began to pick out the most muscular looking fighters, although one samurai in particular had other ideas. Bishamon Takashi strode forward; his height and build ensured his walk alone captured the silent attention of everyone present.

"Why don't we just do this?" he grumbled. With one hand he drew his katana, pulled it back and then thrust it straight into the bare rock face.

With his sword trapped in stone ice began to spread out from the naked blade, encompassing the boulder like a growing spider's web until it became an iceberg. Shoryu had no time to protest as the Taisho brought up his foot, and in one powerful kick shattered their obstacle into a thousand reflective shards of frozen rock.

"Everybody charge!" he roared.

Shoryu found himself caught by such surprise that he missed joining the vanguard as each screaming soldier poured into the open hallway in a stampede. Cries of 'for the Glacier!' called out along with the fearful calls of a few scared ninja. The steel hallway turned to chaos in an instant.

Clones countless in number poured out of side-doors from the sound of the Taisho's break-in, charging with fists, blades and various ninjutsu into the human wall of fighters. Bishamon's giant arms allowed him to take out three with every swing of his katana, screaming like a madman as opposed to the collected – though equally efficient – Kazuya.

Hotaru had also managed to get a front seat to the action, as did Yuudai, making the site of impact a maelstrom of ricocheting fire and ice and water. With the metallic hall being only wide enough to fit five men side by side Shoryu found himself unable to push forward and get to them, yet the number of enemies told him this facility must've been massive. He'd get his chance soon enough.

* * *

Three Days Ago, The Village Hidden in the Cloud

About his office Reizo paced back and forth, anxiously awaiting the arrival of a certain man. The Raikage's base of operations had changed much to suit his own preferences. It had taken months of open windows to get the stench of pipe-weed and incense from the stuffy room, and even longer to wipe away any traces that some imposter had lived here for the best part of a decade.

Now paintings and plants decorated the walls to give the office a homelier feel. Thistles crept down Reizo's windowsill, pleasant looking under the new, brighter lights he'd installed. He gave one final glance over the report to confirm his suspicions, and then right on time three loud knocks banged upon the office door.

"Come in! Come in," he barked out.

When Saito Yukizawa entered the room, long jacket swaying as he walked, his son was perched over the edge of his desk, his eyes skimming over a simple roll of parchment twice over like an obsessed proof-reader.

"You wanted to see me?" Saito asked.

"Yeah, take a seat." At long last Reizo suddenly lost the sense of awkwardness that always came with giving his father orders; he didn't care anymore. He began in a low voice, "I'll get to the point: You were told to take reports from our scouts in the Land of Sound – to assess the danger of our highest priority mission."

"That's right, and I did," said the man as he nodded. Saito's pokerface was second to none; there was nothing on his expression that indicated he knew of his error, but Reizo knew better.

"You reported back that the Land of Sound was not under any current threat. I sent Shoryu and his team there under that pretence." Reizo looked up from his roll of parchment, studying the clan leader with a glare.

"That's right," Saito answered.

"Then _why,_" demanded Reizo as he pulled out another scroll, "did I receive _this _message just two hours ago?" He threw the letter to his father, who in turn tugged off the rubber band and unfurled it in a hurry. He'd barely read two lines when the Raikage cut him off. "I'll summarise it for you shall I? You see that highlighted section of the map? That's where Shoryu and the others are headed, and that's also where ninja from the Land of _Earth_ intend to enter the country and claim it for their own. Three _hundred _Chunin armed and ready to mop up our little strike team!"

Still hardly breaking a sweat, Saito pulled out his glasses and pushed them to his brow, as though he needed to see the proof for himself. "I'm not sure I understan-"

"-Oh I think you understand just fine." Reizo's desk toppled backwards as his eyes lit up with supercharged thunder. Documents and maps cascaded in a shower behind him, white against the blue hue of the Raikyogan markings spreading up his arms. Seeing this, Saito made a break for the exit, yet by the time his hand touched the doorknob his neck was already pressed to the wall by the butt of his son's spear, choking him to submission.

"You ignored that little detail and gave me a false report, _didn't you?_ You knowingly sent Shoryu and all our men into a death trap!"

"Wait-wait!" pleaded Saito. "I can expl-"

"I never thought I'd see the day you sunk this low," said Reizo. "You sacrificed good fighters and a chance at ending this war just to settle a grudge match you started with a thirteen year old boy! And don't even _think _about playing ignorant, you knew about this – you even tried to stop me from finding out."

"I had my reasons!"

"I'm listening." Reizo's eyes flashed again, the thunderstorm within them so intense that Saito was forced to look away. Bioelectricity hummed up and down the shaft of the Raikage's spear to give Saito a torturous massage of thunder boring constantly into his neck.

"We're the weak links in this war Reizo!" he managed, sweating head to toe. "Don't you see it? We need to strike back! To make a statement! If you carry on your pacifist nonsense then our country will be the first to die!"

A simple throw from Reizo was enough to send his father flying across the room. His falling body crashed into the Raikage's desk, a mixture of splinters and thick chunks of wood littered about him. Reizo marched over, and with eyes still raging he pointed the tip of his spear to Saito's forehead.

"And what progress do you really expect we'll make?" he demanded.

"It'll show the Stone that we're not pushovers. They'll think twice before attacking the Cloud! The only thing we lose is a few Chunin; the Leaf supplied their own infantry and we recruited the samurai for ours – neither of them are of any concern to us. In fact we might be better off without them."

"Oh? So you've got a problem with _Kazuya _now as well?" asked Reizo. He'd never heard of this particular grudge before, although he knew they'd met; when he pictured the two of them together he couldn't exactly see them getting on like a house on fire.

"The way of the samurai is too barbaric for this civilised time. We can't trust them beside our men! They're ruthless warriors though – I'll give them that. They might even win against the Stone ninja, who knows?" As Saito's face became alive with enthusiasm Reizo noticed something he'd been blind to all this time; that the man was insane beyond any doubt - as delusional and twisted as their enemies. "Don't you see?" he went on. "I've made us take the first step towards _winning_ this war! We've got a foot in the door!"

A spear driving its way through his shoulder silenced whatever additional prattle Saito Yukizawa might have had to say. It impaled him to the broken desk, a shower of blood and blue sparks bouncing out of the open wound. With the Daimyo Raikyogan Reizo targeted a vulnerable spot and overloaded his father's bioelectric circuit. Only another Raikyogan user could dispel the effect, though Saito's basic strain was considerably weaker.

He thrashed about in random spasms as his eyes began to water. He gripped the spear with both hands, only to find that they too were shocked with such a voltage that made him regret trying.

"The only thing you've done," said Reizo, "Is sent nearly a hundred lives as lambs to the slaughter. When I made you Jonin commander I did it out of whatever little respect I had left for you – as a kind of peace offering to the clan. I had no idea you'd betray me like this. . ."

Saito whimpered in his agony; thousands of volts continued to course around his body, using the open wound as an entrance point and his blood as the conductor. Even so, Reizo poured just enough power in to ensure he didn't pass out. Speaking would be difficult too – he only listen as his son the Eleventh Raikage continued his lecture.

"And just when I thought there was nothing more you could do to disgust me. I thought I'd seen it all, but you really are fouler than anything I can imagine."

Another shock lurched up Saito's spine when his son let go of the spear. He left it embedded there in his shoulder as the he marched over to the coat hanger and donned a long white jacket, emblazoned with the Cloud's characters at the back. Afterwards he retrieved his cone-shaped hat – his proof of being a Kage – and swiftly packed a few provisions.

"Whe- . . Where are you going?" mouthed Saito, weakly in his pain.

"After them. If I leave now I may still be able to follow their tracks and catch up."

"Fool," mumbled the clan leader, spitting out blood before he elaborated. "You'll never reach them in time."

"Maybe not." Reizo returned to his desk, and with one sudden pull jerked his spear from his father's shoulder. The man's cry was such that Reizo half-expected his bodyguards to come charging in. He finished his argument as he wiped blood from his weapon. "But I have to try anyway."

Reizo left his father in that spot; losing blood and on the verge of passing out in the broken wreck of the desk. The Kage headed to the door and pulled it to, making sure to stop before he left for a few last words.

"You'll never be in my service again – you're stripped of all titles and ranks bestowed to you by the village. If you're as tough as I remember you'll survive that wound, but if my men are dead then you won't have a home to go back to: I'll make sure you never set foot in the Cloud ever again. You should start praying now Saito – for your sake, you'd better hope I can get to them first."

* * *

Three Days Later

_It's too cramped in here. Not enough room to summon Kyoh that's for sure, _figured Shoryu as he ducked under a stray shuriken. His non-involvement in the battle finally passed as the battalion reached a crossroad. Forward, left and right – in every direction the steel grey corridors stretched out, a seemingly infinite number of basic doors branching from each.

As Shoryu manoeuvred his way to the front he found Kazuya and the others already waiting for him; now that the clones had ceased their attack they had time to form a strategy.

"We missed you on the field," said Hotaru. "Can't keep up?"

"I can keep up just fine, but there'll be more of them waiting up ahead. In the meantime we'd better split into three groups. I'll lead a team right, Hotaru you take the left, and Bishamon-" But the Glacier's Taisho made his own instructions. With a dozen samurai at his tail the brute lumbered forward to another small group of clones gathering further up the corridor.

"Keep doing what you're doing," Shoryu muttered after him – literally about to suggest that Bishamon take middle route.

To his surprise Kazuya chose to bank right with him rather than the Taisho, along with Ayako, Free and Jinga for good measure. Now in his rightful place at the vanguard, Shoryu let his swords prove his strength. Side by side he and Kazuya headed a force of twenty ninja down the closed corridors, hacking mercilessly through the clone opposition whenever a group came their way.

One look at Kazuya showed how eager he was; his movements that Shoryu could normally follow became a blur, the speed of his Jikogan unreal as he ploughed into wave after wave without a thought for his own wellbeing. His recklessness gave Shoryu cause for concern; he kept one eye trained on him at all times lest an attack strike him from behind.

In the end it was Shoryu who was caught off guard. A shuriken bounced off the nearest wall and carved a neat gash into his right shoulder. He found he'd been too preoccupied with tracking Kazuya to bother about covering himself, his only consolation being that the wound was shallow and hardly worth healing.

Still, Jinga gave it a quick once over to stop the bleeding once they reached the next bend. As the injury closed Shoryu cast a look to Kazuya. He never spared Shoryu the slightest glance. He kept his eyes fixed at a glare down the corridor, tapping his sword impatiently as he waited for them to set off again. Shoryu could only oblige him.

After just one more skirmish the group came to end of their path. The corridor they'd followed ended in a single door, this one heavier and grander looking than the generic ones they'd passed. Immediately Shoryu suspected resistance.

"Kazuya w-" Too late. The samurai's kick sent the door flying from its hinges as he jumped into the room. Cursing his recklessness Shoryu dived in after him, safe in the knowledge that Ayako and Free were close behind.

Little to his surprise they'd walked right into a stronghold – a laboratory of sorts occupied by more clones than any could bother to count. Shuriken and all sorts of fascinating ninjutsu hurtled towards the door as Shoryu threw himself out of the way. After rolling to a stop the Jonin positioned himself behind one of the many desks decorating the room.

Glass shattered above him as the alembics and assorted phials burst upon the desk he hid behind. Chemicals blue and red fizzed to the floor dangerously close to his leg; Shoryu had never seen their like before, though he put the thought out of his mind when a shuriken pierced through the desk just two inches beside his left eye.

As he drew a sword Shoryu whirled to face his attackers, letting fly a savage Cross Slash Jutsu that felled at least five when the near-invisible lash of wind swept across the room. A thunderbolt made him duck back into cover, although Kazuya shouting off some form of attack gave him the opportunity to pop back up and throw a shuriken. Ayako seized the chance too, leaning in from behind the door to fill the room with a blooming of red fireworks.

_Shoryu!_

Free's voice was the only warning Shoryu needed. He turned out of his cover a third time, and after vaulting over the table decapitated the clone making a leap for his hiding place. Unfortunately his actions only left him in the eye of the storm with Kazuya. Samurai and ninja poured in behind them as Ayako and Free continued to provide cover, although despite the support Shoryu still found himself situated between two walls of skilled fighters throwing attacks at one another - hardly his ideal position.

Kazuya didn't seem to mind however. He charged into the fray, taking no heed to the cuts he sustained as he slashed through the legion, both sides of his sword spinning like propellers. He'd stab one through the heart, then use the clone's fleeting body to barrel over and catch another through the mist.

Most frightening of all was when he dodged only the lethal side of an attack; a kunai might slash across his chest, but he didn't seem to care when it put him in the ideal place for a single killing blow. His bloodlust became so visible that Shoryu feared they'd all get dragged into the madness; the clashing of steel and screaming of men echoed for miles around the cavernous hideout – even battles not visible could still be heard. If anything this would be a test of his nerve rather than his skills.

In the midst of the bedlam Shoryu suddenly spied a single clone, fire wreathing his hands as he launched an arrow made from his chakra. Seeing the chance, the Jonin gave his second blade a lick of oil before slashing the bolt away. With a sword coated in flames the advantage became theirs.

"Kazuya, let's blind them!" he cried over.

Through deflecting various projectiles and slaughtering any who came near the samurai managed to avert his eyes to look back to Shoryu. He gave a gruff nod, and after sheathing his blade began to twist his fingers into hand signs.

"_Ice Style: Frozen Wall Jutsu!_"

A blockade of ice two feet thick sprang up to divide the room in two. For a moment there was serenity in the confusion; silence claimed the laboratory as ninja looked to one another in confusion. Shoryu took a few moments to take in his surroundings before letting fly again.

A single, lazy swipe of Shoryu's offhand blade let fly a blazing Cross Slash, enhanced thanks to the burning blade. His target was the glacial barrier separating the two warring sides, cracking and hissing as clones attacked it from the other side. It took only a matter of seconds for the ice to thaw out, leaving nothing but a thick quilt of blinding mist that drifted towards the enemy. Shoryu beckoned to the men behind.

"Now!" he called. "Charge now!"

As a single unit the ninja and samurai came in a stampede of blades, fists and jutsu. Shoryu could almost sense the fear of the trapped clones as countless bodies poured in through the fog, killing them before they saw the attack only to add more mist to the cloud.

Shoryu became glad of it when the dust finally settled. Only embers and passing vapours of dead clones remained, and at the epicentre of the charge Kazuya stood by himself, blood staining his armour as he breathed deeply to calm himself down. They'd resolved to conserve chakra in case any Senmatsu attacked; out of all of them, only Kazuya didn't seem to take that on board.

"What the hell is this place?" muttered Ayako. As Shoryu turned to face her he noticed she inspected one of the few remaining phials left unbroken in the attack.

"Who cares? We're getting close," said Kazuya.

"Here, let me see." Ignoring the comment, Jinga took the flask and held it up to his eye. Colours blended together within and bubbles still fizzed to the surface. "It's been made recently," he said, then pressed the opening to his nose. His instant flinch told Shoryu it didn't smell pleasant. "Phew!" he groaned. "Never smelled anything like that before."

_This should be where they concocted whatever it is they were making_, said Free.

"Alright, you keep hanging onto that Jinga – and get some more if you can," Shoryu ordered. "Hold the fort down here and do whatever you can for our wounded. We're pressing on a little further alone; we'll come back for reinforcements if there's trouble."

"Alone? You sure? After _that?_" The doctor looked stunned.

Shoryu waved towards the next door. "The bulk of their forces remained here – way more resistance than what we've encountered so far. That means they were guarding whatever they've got up ahead. We should be fine on our own."

"Ahh." Sensing that the Jonin didn't want to bring a whole legion of troops bumbling down into a potentially volatile area, Jinga nodded his head. "Roger that!"

Shoryu smiled; he could always count on the medic. "Thanks."

"Sorry." Ayako looked left to right, confused. "When you said _we're _pressing on you meant-"

"You, me, Kazuya and Free."

She grinned. "Thought so."

With that the foursome headed towards the next door, Free nearly slipping on the puddle of chemicals along the way. Jinga and the others watched on in fear as once again Kazuya booted it down without hesitation, although much to their surprise it led only to a downward set of stairs, leading further under the canyon into naught but gloom. The samurai headed the way down, oblivious to Jinga's 'Be careful!' shout as they disappeared into the doorway.

Down into the darkness the staircase winded. Candlelight from a few sconces never reached the floor, and Shoryu felt a stab of fear whenever they heard the ominous sound of hot wax dripping to the thin metal beneath them.

"Oh look at that, a helix staircase," chided Ayako.

"Very funny."

"_Ssshh._" A hiss from Kazuya silenced them both as the four continued downwards, but Shoryu still had more to say.

Keeping his voice low, the Jonin answered. "There's a chance we'll meet up with Bishamon's group further ahead – Hotaru's as well."

_How can you tell? _Asked Free.

"I counted the steps. We've taken two left turns already, and judging by the length of those corridors all those routes probably converge at one spot."

Ayako muttered something that sounded like 'show off' as the hollow ringing of their footsteps on stairs thickened. Another small passage welcomed them, the door at its end lit up by the crevices around its edges. A light was on inside – a rather bright one by Shoryu's reckoning. Kazuya approached the door, giving a look to his squadmates as he drew his weapon.

_You don't need that_, said Free. _I don't sense any clones in that room._

For the first time in a while Kazuya's eyes met Shoryu's. He saw loathing and distrust behind that usually cool exterior, but Shoryu couldn't deny that he had a right to be wary. The samurai kept his blade drawn as he turned the knob.

Right away Shoryu suspected some kind of jutsu. The bright white of the room blinded him momentarily after minutes of being submerged in darkness, like he'd finally awoken after days of sleep. Once his eyes adjusted to the room waking up became the first thing he wished for, for what followed could be nothing less than a nightmare.

There, laid out like a row of sardines on each a hospital bed, were countless ninja kidnapped by the Senmatsu. Shoryu recognised his own men along with more ninja from the Land of Fire and other foreign nations. At a quick guess he counted two hundred, all of them unconscious, intravenously fed some liquid through a tube on their arms.

A gasp escaped Ayako as she clasped a hand over her mouth.

_This is horrific_, judged Free.

From the centre of the room hung a large, translucent bag, filled to the brim with that same bubbling substance they'd inspected just two minutes ago. Tubes from every patient connected back to this giant sack of fluid. Whatever it was, this unknown chemical was being pumped into every ninja in the room.

"Fujiko!" Oblivious to every comatose ninja Kazuya called out his wife's name the moment he saw her. He leapt over beds, scrambling over as fast as he could. She slept at the furthest corner of the room, bathed in the white light glowing above. Still and peaceful, she resembled an angel at rest, though she was as unresponsive as the others; Fujiko never opened her eyes despite all Kazuya's shouting and shaking her.

"Is she alright?" Shoryu called over.

"I-I think so." Hands shaking, the samurai hovered two fingers over her mouth. "She's breathing."

"We need to sever whatever it is they're injecting them with," said Ayako.

Kazuya nodded as he brought up his blade once again. In a single stroke he cut the plastic tube feeding fluids into her arm.

"Don't get any in your eyes or mouth," warned Shoryu. His turn to release his frustration had arrived; after witnessing for himself what the Senmatsu had done to his men the Jonin had rarely been more livid. The depths of human sadism continued to shock him every time he came across that vile family. He marched straight through the row of unconscious ninja, and after drawing swords slashed two great openings in the giant sack.

Purplish chemicals spilled to the ground frothing and spitting as Shoryu shielded his eyes from the spray. By the time it was drained the puddle came up to his ankles, meaning he had to wade to get out.

"They aren't waking up!" said Kazuya.

_Give it time, the effects should wear off eventually._

"Free, do you have any idea what that liquid is?" said Ayako.

_No, I'm afraid I don't. . . _The young clone looked to puddle of frothing chemicals, then around each of his companions in turn. His gaze lingered on Shoryu, stood staring into space with his finger and thumb on his chin after releasing his anger. _But I believe Shoryu does_, he revealed.

When two eager expressions turned his way the Jonin shook his head. "It's just an idea," he said. "Look – I don't want to believe this any more than you do. But what if-"

But Shoryu's sentence never reached its finish. A long, desperate, crying wail from the next room along cut him off – the scream of a baby. As Kazuya's eyes looked down to his wife Ayako's latest observation proved what he'd suspected all along:

"Is it just me or does she look a little thinner to you?"

The baby's squawk sounded again, but Kazuya didn't need telling twice. He bounded over another set of empty beds and zipped across the room, eyes spiralling before he kicked open the neighbouring door. Thinking of a trap, Shoryu and the others followed after him.

They found the samurai still in one piece; it wasn't a trap. This was a room for supplies; first aid kits and cupboards full of painkillers were lined across the wall surrounding a sink filled with unwashed coffee mugs. A folded-up bed lay propped against the wall and a mop resided in one corner, clearly used often judging by the pristine state of the floor.

Kazuya stood in one corner of a room stooped over something. It was hard to make out at first, but after craning his neck Shoryu realised it was a cot. The samurai turned, wonder in his eyes, as he'd relinquished his sword in favour of the baby, swaddled up in blue blankets with half-lidded eyes peering up at them.

Shoryu had never seen a baby so small – he was a week old, perhaps two at a stretch. He hushed the moment Kazuya turned to inspect him and made squeals of delight. Most notable of all were the tufts of white hair sprouting up from the boy's head; that coupled with familiar eyes of a luxurious dark brown could mean only one thing.

"Definitely yours," said Shoryu. As if to agree, the baby squawked a laugh.

_Fujiko must've given birth during her stay here_. Free offered._ I imagine the clones thought a baby unfit for whatever experiments they were conducting._

Ayako looked troubled. "So why keep him? Seems a hassle to have a baby lying around the place."

"So they could use him when he grows up," Shoryu revealed, equally disturbed by the idea. "They knew who Fujiko was – who the father of her child is. That baby has the Jikogan, and the Senmatsu consider him an asset."

"He's my son and heir. They aren't touching him ever again," affirmed Kazuya. The others nodded in agreement, yet their short burst of determination was short-lived.

A single groan sounded from the room they'd just left, pain-stricken and weary. Without thinking twice the four ran back towards the sound. All patients were still sound asleep – all save one. Another moan echoed around the ward, this one louder.

"Is that-"

"_Fujiko!_" Before anyone else Kazuya was by his wife's side once again. She'd awoken from her slumber at last, and so her adoring husband cradled her head in his arms as he whispered over and over. "It's alright, I'm here now. Everything's going to be okay."

Shoryu thought he'd never seen his friend display such affection; he didn't care that everyone else watching – in fact he seemed close to tears at the thought of having her back. It was a shame then, that his words fell on deaf ears. Shoryu noticed it first – she looked straight through Kazuya, eyes bloodshot and mind absent.

After a time Fujiko cried in pain once again, this time louder as she brought her nails to her temple and began to wail. Eventually even Kazuya had to admit something had gone wrong.

"Fujiko?" he asked. "What's the matter?" The samurai shook her again, getting nothing in response but a blood-curdling screech as his wife's pain reached its zenith. Her back arched up from the hospital bed. She pounded the mattress; feathers began to fly in her hysteria, and all the while she never once seemed to even notice her beloved husband.

"Snap out of it Fujiko we-"

Another scream cut him off, this one from the far side of the room, and then another followed swiftly after. More voices joined the mantra to reach a crescendo of ear-splitting screams like a legion of banshees throwing a party. One by one the patients began to wake up, all experiencing the same symptoms. Shoryu pulled up a Cloud ninja he recognised to get the same response: nothing but torturous roars and a blank, forgotten expression. He saw nothing, resigned only to his pain.

"Shoryu what the hell is happening?" cried Ayako over the choir, covering her ears.

"Cutting that thing must've woke them up!" he called over. "But I didn't expect this to happen!"

Kazuya blocked out the riot behind him as he continued to shake his wife in desparation. "_FUJIKO! Look at me! We're getting you out of h-" _

An explosion behind them suddenly drowned out the last portion of Kazuya's sentence. He forced himself to turn to the threat, only to find that one of the ninja had spontaneously combusted. Nothing remained but a charred corpse where life once remained. Not only that, but another waking ninja began to spit sparks at random like a broken generator.

Now that he looked, other ninja had started to act strangely too. The screaming of constant horror was only the beginning; strange spheres formed above one, glowing chakra wreathed another, several had fallen into seizures, and from one ninja a group of ominous shadows had even begun to snake about the ward.

Panicking, Kazuya turned back to his wife. The last thing he expected was an attack, but that was exactly what he received as a spear of solid ice suddenly flew out of Fujiko's skin to pierce his shoulder. Worst of all, it nearly hit the baby, now making a racket amidst the confusion.

"I was afraid of this," muttered Shoryu.

The moment he heard his captain talk Kazuya rounded on the Jonin. With his free hand the samurai grabbed Shoryu's jacket, pinning him without warning to another volatile ninja. "Speak up!" he thundered. "You'd better start making sense!"

"That chemical Kazuya – it's something they've been working on for years! It's the damn Alpha Gene! They tried to give it to all these people!"

_That makes sense,_ offered Free. _Shoren created the original to match his only own DNA. With a perfect version - the basic strain of it - he could give it to anyone he wanted._

"Meaning a whole army of superpowered clones. . ." Ayako put a hand to her head – just when they thought things couldn't get any more difficult.

_I'd say these were their failed test subjects. The gene hasn't bonded properly to their bodies – they're rejecting it like it's a foreign invader._

"Free!" Shoryu whirled to the clone. "Get up to Jinga, tell him to get as many of these people to safety as they can. Knock them out if you have to!"

_Understood_.

Free hadn't even left the room when Kazuya decided to act. Seeing that Shoryu's idea was the only alternative he propped up Fujiko to a sitting position, and after muttering something that sounded like an apology he gave her a solid whack with the handle of his sword. She was still and silent when unconscious, but it did little to sully the myriad of screams filling the room.

With his calm persona now just about back in check the samurai handed Fujiko to Shoryu, and then the crying baby to Ayako. "Get them to safety."

"But I can't-" Ayako began to plead.

"You're his godmother aren't you? I don't want to hear about what you _can't _do!"

After biting her lip in indecision Ayako finally caved and headed for the door, dodging on her way a number of foreign ninjutsu exploding from the mass of unresponsive ninja.

Shoryu found himself torn between following her and staying. Kazuya was nothing if not devious; he knew Shoryu would want to fight on, but with the responsibility of Fujiko in his arms there was no way he could plough ahead into battle. Seeing no other option, the Jonin settled for asking just one question.

"What are you planning on doing all by yourself? We don't even know what's ahead!"

Kazuya turned to the next door – the final obstacle in his path. When he spoke his voice quavered with rage; hatred Shoryu thought him incapable of. "I'm going to settle this," he said.

"I'll be two minutes behind you so don't do anything stupid!" Shoryu replied.

"Don't bother." Nothing more needed to be said. Without looking back Kazuya made for the door, leaving his confused friend behind as he drew his sword and span his eyes to a Jikogan. Just as they'd expected the final door was a heavy one, brown oak furnished with maple that gave a creak when he pushed it. Wherever this led, he had no doubt that it took him to the final rooms of this facility.

Little to Kazuya's surprise another corridor greeted him. Different from the last, ivy caressed the bare stone walls of this claustrophobic tunnel. Water dripped from patches of moss that clung to the low roof, and small amounts of light shone from twisted black candles propped upon the walls.

The clones had converted nothing here; this was a simple underground cave leading only to another door. Perhaps they intended to furnish it later, or maybe the nakedness of this portion signified that clones were not permitted beyond this point. Regardless, Kazuya figured there was only one way to found out. He made his way through the puddles and opened the final door.

The sheer amount of space caught him off guard right away, for the next cavern could only be described as a barren great hall. Stalactites hung over a hundred metres above him and the walls were far enough apart to house a whole army inside. Like the hallway this place was a dark crypt – natural rock as opposed to the smooth, metallic rooms they'd crossed to get here.

Adjusting to the darkness, Kazuya caught sight of a number of figures – seven in total. Five were concealed by the shadows; silhouettes occupied the outlines of human beings, their features impossible to make out. Two, however, appeared in solid form.

The curtain of sunshine blonde hair made them both instantly recognisable: Tall, lean figures who walked with an air of grace and importance as they paced about the room. He'd fought both before – Suzume Oyama, who he'd beaten in the Chunin exams, and her mother Madoka, the same woman who'd led the assault against them. They were the only two people he'd ever seen to possess the same eyes as he did.

It sickened Kazuya when he considered he was blood-related to these demons, yet he put the thought out of his mind as he realised they hadn't yet spotted him. They strolled back and forth as they delivered some kind of a report to the remaining figures. If he was careful, he might be able to take one out without being seen – he could spare Shoryu that much caution at least.

"-Rushed down here without a clue." Madoka said. "I'll make sure none of them leave alive father. That, I can promise you."

"Promises do not concern me Madoka. I want results," said one of the shrouded men. "How did they find your location in the first place?"

"I don't know, but we'll catch whoever is responsible."

"Pray that you do, or _you'll _be the one taking the blame."

_Father? _Kazuya went over what Madoka said one more time. If that was true, then the threatening man shrouded in darkness was his grandfather Masaru – the creator of the Jikogan. The remaining figures must've been other members of the Senmatsu family, he realised, but something was off about them: Madoka and her daughter were the only ones who actually appeared to be present. Were the others merely apparitions communicating from afar? It seemed the logical conclusion.

If so, then Madoka and Suzume were the only fighters he needed to be wary of.

"W-Well who are they? And what do they want?" snapped another figure, this one a younger sounding boy.

"They wear Leaf and Cloud headbands. . . I believe they want their test subjects back," Madoka said.

"Careful Madoka." A third voice from the gang spoke up, and Kazuya looked to see a taller man, stood slumped with his hands inside his pockets like he cared nothing for their conversation. "My nephew could be with them, yours too if I recall."

"I fought them already," Madoka replied. "They're nothing to panic about."

"Really? Seems to me like if that Shoryu kid had any of _my_ blood he could take you out without breaking a sweat. Guess he's more his father's son after all. My brother always was a weakling."

"Indeed."

_Teijo_. The name crept up Kazuya's spine like a cold finger. He stole the freedom from every clone created, along with the Tenth Raikage and countless other victims he'd manage to enslave. Knowing that he was merely an illusion served to frustrate him; if he was really here, just one swing of the samurai's blade could end the war.

As the Senmatsu continued their discussion Kazuya noticed something else to distract him further. In the dimly-lit recesses of the cavern it was difficult to make out, but another man lay face-down just beyond the impressions of the wretched clan.

With his resolve still concrete Kazuya inched around for a better look at the figure. He was still and unmoving, and as Kazuya got closer he saw the puddle of red spreading from the man's armour. Step by step the samurai shuffled forward; he suspected the victim's identity, yet he refused to believe it until he reached the body and flipped it over.

The man's gigantic size meant only one thing, and the trademark crimson armour decorated with the clan's sigil confirmed it. For a moment Kazuya thought he was still alive; his eyes remained open, fixed into his last look of terror – the moment when they'd slit his throat like a pig and left him to bleed out.

"_Bishamon!_" In blind panic Kazuya forgot all about keeping quiet. There lay his mentor, his friend and surrogate father, mercilessly slaughtered at the hands of his enemies. As if hurting his wife wasn't enough, the Senmatsu had taken away the man who'd raised him from near-birth. They turned to him at the sound of his voice, hardly surprised or threatened by his presence.

"He flew down here by himself in a frenzy," Suzume huffed. "Said he didn't fight women, so we showed him what we thought of that."

Kazuya's anger reached its peak. "_YOU!_" he roared, sword in hand as he whirled to the group.

As seven Senmatsu stared him down another bang interrupted the silence. Shoryu appeared, nearly tearing the door from its hinges when he burst into the cove, ready to fight now that Fujiko was safe.

"Speak of the devil," said Teijo. "Guess we'll let you handle it. Have fun Madoka! I know I would!"

In a static flash the five shadows vanished from sight, their jutsu broken to end communications. A silent agreement was all it took for the mother and daughter; Madoka turned to challenge Kazuya, with Suzume facing Shoryu. The new Taisho had other ideas.

"_Shoryu!_" he called, careful not to let his rage spill out upon his friend. "Get out of here! I don't need your help with this one!"

"Forgetting who's in charge here?" Shoryu folded his arms.

"Please, just leave! I have to do this alone."

"I'm not going to just _leave you _with these two freaks. We'll fight them together!"

"This is _personal!_" screamed Kazuya. He pointed the tip of his blade past both foes – straight to his oldest friend. "Interfere with this and I'll never forgive you."

Shoryu said nothing, stumped about what to do next. Kazuya could see the hesitance written all over his face – leave a friend to almost certain death, or help fight and deal with the consequences afterwards? There was no helping it; Kazuya didn't envy his predicament, but in the end the Jonin shrugged, sheathing both blades as he released a heavy sigh.

"Still insistent on fighting alone," he reflected. "Some things never change do they?"

"No, but some things change," said Kazuya. "I don't prescribe wholly to the ways of the samurai: Unlike Bishamon, _I _don't have any qualms against fighting women."

In what might have been the cockiest move of Shoryu's career, the boy turned his back to his opponent and strolled to the door, as though Suzume Oyama would be little more than an annoyance to him if they ever came to blows – that she was so insignificant a threat that he could handle being unarmed and blind against her.

Shoryu waved a hand as he turned to look over his shoulder, his anxiety still evident as he peered past the furious Suzume. "Win, okay? You've got a son to raise."

"You don't need to worry Shoryu," Kazuya vowed. "This won't take long at all."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Kazuya's a daddy! . . And he's not exactly setting the best example is he? Ah well, can hardly blame him really; his adoptive parent just died and his wife's fate is up in the air. I'd be pissed too. The Senmatsu also use the a similar 'telephone jutsu' to the Akatsuki as well, just in case anyone recognised it. Dunno why the heroes never learned that technique - seems like it would come in pretty handy.

Guess the Senmatsu aren't satisfied with just having a whole family of superpowered ninja. Creating a kind of stem-cell version of the Alpha Gene is their major goal at the moment, since doing so would allow them to take down the entire world in one go. If that ever happens it's pretty much game over.

So Kazuya wants to take on Suzume and Madoka by himself (despite the fact that Madoka alone kicked the crap out of him and Shoryu just a few chapters ago) and according to Reizo there's also a whole army of Stone ninja heading their way. Things aren't looking great for our heroes at the moment. How the hell are they going to get out of this one? Tune in next time!


	32. Chapter 32 An Easy Price

Chapter 32: An Easy Price

As Shoryu continued to walk away the grim features of a snarl came to Suzume. The move was tantamount to an insult – turning one's back and heading in the opposite direction when the target lay ready for a fight just ahead. He'd almost reached the door when she decided to speak up.

"_Hey!_" she cried. "Get back here, we aren't done yet! You think you'll stand a chance at living when you're blind to my movements?"

"Nope. I just think Kazuya can reach me faster than you can," Shoryu muttered, still not sparing a glance for the fuming girl just ten paces behind.

"_Why you. . ._" Suzume drew hand signs in blur, odd shapes that looked painful to stretch into – the hallmark of the Jikogan. In four years her speed at casting it grew quicker, throwing out five in each second to finally put her at maximum capacity. She slapped the final seal into place as her pupils morphed to a familiar spiral. "_Jikogan!_"

_This is bad. _From afar Kazuya saw the exchange. Using his own speed wouldn't cut it – Suzume would reach his commander and snap his neck whilst his back was turned. Only one option remained to him.

The girl flew into superhuman speeds, crossing yards in an instant as the world around her slowed to a snail's pace. When she reached Shoryu, arms poised and ready to attack, Kazuya finally acted. He threw out a single hand sign, one he'd never attempted in a real fight. His eyes span wildly as the headache hit him, a strange pain as though his eyes tried to bury themselves further into his skull.

Controlling this technique was the hardest part. A red haze descended over Kazuya's vision, coupling with a sudden agony to make him disorientated and confused for the briefest of moments. Through the fog of his own pain like a self-inflicted genjutsu he aimed his hands, still striking that unusual pose as he directed chakra to his eyes. A gap formed as he widened his fingers, and after pointing it to a spot directly behind Shoryu he was ready to fly.

"_Jikansanpo!_"

Tracks of a vivid, fading blue took Kazuya's place as he warped straight to Shoryu faster than a bullet. Even the most perceptive of ninja might mistake his movement for a teleport if not for the four lines of acceleration marking his travel – twenty metres of open space occupied only by hazy rays of light.

The world came back to him a blink, but Kazuya was already prepared. He spun around with a single kick, finding that it smashed perfectly into his cousin's stomach. The girl flew back from the impact, nursing her bruised belly after hitting the rock floor with a thud, awe-struck by the attack. Shoryu on the other hand still refused to turn around, despite the fact the Kazuya now stood directly behind him.

"I thought you said we were supposed to conserve chakra," The samurai drew his blade. "You're not exactly making it easy for me."

"Yeah well I also said don't act like a reckless dick. Whatever happened to that order?" Shoryu asked.

"Shoryu. . ." Just then something dawned upon Kazuya – a life changing decision that he'd have to make here and now. The boy's flippant joke reminded him of something. He reached behind his short crop of white hair and undid the knot of his forehead protector – the symbol of his status as a ninja. It fell limply into his hands, and he pocketed it without a sound. "It's been fun. . . But we both know I can't take orders anymore."

The commander finally stopped to turn; for four years he'd steeled himself for this day, knowing it would come ever since their conversation at the Festival of Kateri, when Kazuya revealed his heritage. "You're leaving the ninja." It wasn't a question, it was an eventuality.

"I need to look out for my people – I'm the Taisho now," he reflected. "Just know that this changes nothing; the samurai will fight in this war as allies to the Cloud. It's unfortunate, but Bishamon's death will mean we're here to stay, my men will want vengeance after all."

"Well, like you said, it changes nothing," said Shoryu. "You never followed orders anyway. Just look for me on the battlefield and it'll be just like old times."

"Agreed. Now go – I'd hate to keep these two waiting any longer."

"I'm going, I'm going," he said. "But if you die I swear I'll bring you back just so I can kill you again."

"Fine by me, dying wasn't a part of my plan. . ." Kazuya then listened in silence as their conversation came to an end, savouring the still-fearful look on Suzume's face right up until the moment when the door slammed shut behind his commander. Finally they had some privacy; in any other situation nothing would've pleased him more than having Shoryu there to back him up, but here, under the circumstances, Kazuya knew that he wouldn't be satisfied unless he finished this his own hands.

"That – that technique!" cried Suzume. "How did-"

"How did I learn it?" Kazuya cut her off. "Honestly, you two are terrible at keeping the secrets of the Jikogan. As soon as I saw the Playback Jutsu in our fight at the Chunin exams I knew I had to master it. And Madoka, you made a mistake to escape our camp using that Jutsu – I never knew there was so much more of the Jikogan I had yet to master. _Jikansanpo!_"

Using both hands Kazuya pointed the same pose to a spot just five paces left of Madoka, and in the same display of a rocketing blue impression he found himself right next to her. Once again Suzume nearly shrieked in fear, although her mother remained as cool as the samurai himself.

"Impossible!" cried Suzume.

"Huh?" Kazuya arched an eyebrow as he cast his eyes towards her. Her look told him everything; a mix of disbelief and desperation – of a child reacting badly after being cheated. "Ahh," he said, finally understanding. "You can't use it can you?"

"I spent four years trying to learn that technique – and you're saying you mastered it in eight weeks after only seeing it once? Don't give me that crap!"

"It's true. Believe it or don't," spat Kazuya. "But we're in different leagues. Four years ago you might've been able to challenge me, but you can do all the training you like, it still doesn't match up to the four years I've done getting up and fighting in a warzone every day. Practiced combat is no substitute for real experience. We were kids back when we first fought – I see you're the only one who hasn't grown up."

"_Enough!_" As Madoka slammed a foot down Kazuya realised that even her slightest twitch was enough to make him wary. The samurai hopped back to a safe distance – four short jumps that put him at a safe range to fight both of them. Madoka looked furious; even in the dark of the cave he could still see the harsh frown lines forming upon her brow and temples.

Even Suzume appeared to be in fear of her mother. She leapt back to her feet in an instant, her grimace barely concealing the aftershock from Kazuya's kick. It seemed even she was apprehensive of the power Madoka possessed. Kazuya eyed her carefully, waiting for any movement that might signal the older Senmatsu's attack. Fortunately nothing came of it. Madoka put her hands on her hips as she started again:

"You can both keep flapping your mouths or you can fight." She turned to her daughter, smiling sweetly. "Suzume dear, why don't you fight Kazuya? This should be a good test of your skills. But remember we need him alive – Teijo will want to meet him after we're done here."

"Understood." With words as her only encouragement Suzume dropped into stance.

_This is wrong_, noticed Kazuya. _Why not come at me both at the same time? _He questioned. _Why would she send just Suzume – Madoka must know that she can't beat me by herself. _A devilish grin on the face of his aunt made him even more confused; was she sending her daughter to a certain death? Or did Suzume have some new trick she'd been saving? No – her reaction at his Jikansanpo proved she was outmatched; only her mother's words gave her the confidence to fight.

"I'm not in the most generous mood right now, so I can only give you this offer once," he began. "Suzume, walk away. Your mother attacked our camp, and I take it she killed Bishamon. I don't harbour any grudge against you, so you can walk away now and I'll forget you were ever involved. Get in my way and you'll only die."

Suzume wavered, as though the offer tempted her for a moment. One more sideways glance at her mother renewed her resolve. "Don't get cocky Kazuya! Like hell I'm backing out of this! I've been waiting a long time for a rematch." A triad of hasty hand-signs marked the start of the battle as lava began to gush from her last tiger seal. "_Lava Style: Molten Blast Jutsu!_"

"So be it," muttered Kazuya. With one swift beckon of his hand a pillar of ice came thrusting like a dagger from the ground before him. The lava struck in force, crashing like a wave against the defence as the samurai watched on, hardly troubled. In the end Suzume's blast penetrated only a few inches of the frozen block. Heat was ice's bane by its very nature, but Kazuya's technique was simply on a higher calibre. After surveying the damage he knew he'd won already.

Steam vented in angry plumes from the lump of ice as Kazuya's eyes darted about the cavern. Just as he'd predicted, Suzume used the mist to vanish into the darkness, no doubt to attack him from where he least expected it. At least she hid herself well; Kazuya saw no sign of her, and so he stilled his thoughts as he strung together the hand signs of the Jikogan.

Around him the world slowed to a crawl. The quickest speed of his Dojutsu drained his chakra with every passing moment, but with Madoka around such caution was necessary. He cast his spirals to the mother once again. Just as before she remained in the same spot with her hands by her side, bent on not interfering with the duel. Fine by him.

The shadows masked Suzume's presence well; she was a born and raised ninja after all. While Kazuya rarely adhered to such tactics he knew exactly how to counter them, as after centring his mind even the sound of a scuttling mouse failed to escape his ears. The barrenness of the cove did Suzume few favours too – there were no rock formations large enough to hide behind.

Pebbles crumbling in the distance proved to be the only evidence Kazuya needed. His eyes snapped to that direction as a technique materialised, also sped up by the Suzume's Jikogan. This time however, the lava had a different target. He watched as the spitting bomb of magma sailed above his head, striking the roof of the dim-lit cave.

A group of stalactites – five in all – fell from the ceiling as a hailstorm of razor-sharp rocks. A roll for cover found Kazuya to safety, and after tracking her again he let his eyes do the rest.

"_Playback One!_" From out of his body a copy burst into being, pixelated and buzzing in and out of static as it manifested itself; this recording was among Kazuya's favourites. A younger-looking version of himself dashed with sword in hand across the rocks, reaching Suzume in a matter of moments before loosing a single stroke. His blade cut the ground in a neat, banana-shaped arc before vanishing once again into pixels.

Suzume looked just as confused as her mother; the Playback had cut the floor in front of her and then disappeared, the attack missing completely. _Did he intend to do that? _Her face told him her thoughts, and after a few seconds her mind was made up.

"Ha!" she mocked him. "Where are you aiming that thing? No sense having all that power if you can't even contr-"

A scraping hiss cut her off as the scar in the earth erupted. A curve of icicles varying in size blossomed from the cut like a blue flower, leaning outward as they sprouted to land a direct hit. A number of blunt pillars slammed into Suzume's collarbone and one sharp as a blade pierced her shoulder. The force sent her flying, bloodied and dazed until she crashed in a heap.

"You might want to watch out for that one," said Kazuya. For once he took his fighting banter as a cue from Shoryu in an attempt to anger his foe. It worked better than he expected.

Ragged breaths of pain and irritancy echoed around the cavern as Suzume got back to her feet. With one hand she nursed a bruised sternum, the other jerking the icicle from her shoulder as she glowered at the boy in response, too furious for words. In his honour Kazuya allowed her to get back to her feet; he even permitted her a moment to inspect her wound. It wouldn't matter soon.

"Even with another decade of training and an army at your heels you couldn't kill me," said Kazuya, drawing the double-bladed sword of his ancestor. "But alone you're trying to take me alive? It's pitiful. Even you should know better."

"Quit messing with me!" Suzume bawled. Her eyes flashed dangerously as she called out two playbacks and fished inside her pouch of tools. Before long she'd withdrawn six kunai – one held in each gap of her fingers. Kazuya watched as the two copies beside her did the same, making a total of eighteen projectiles for him to repel.

In perfect synchronism the three Suzumes drew hand signs; they were made awkward with the blades jammed between their fingers, but in the end the metal became coated with a slick layer of magma, dripping from the tip of each blade to fizz and burn on the rocks. One at a time they pitched back a throwing arm.

Kazuya got to work on his defence already, needing no jutsu save for the speed of his eyes for an effective counter. He span his sword in a flourish tracing a figure of eight movement in the air, slowly at first before building up a speed that made the two opposing blades appear as a single rotary fan to the naked eye. Like a propeller his sword span, wrists twirling in tandem with the steel as Suzume began her last-ditch effort to beat him.

"_Lava Style: Molten Storm Jutsu!" _

Kazuya only watched the rain of crimson-tipped kunai fly at him; by then he'd worked up such a rhythm that his hands seemed to move of their own accord. Sparks flew by, yellow and red across the cavern as every projectile ricocheted from the surface of Kazuya's two edges. Unable to admit defeat, the three Suzume's took it in turns to replenish their stock, resulting in a never-ending hail of kunai. Clearly this technique was supposed to continue until the target's defences were broken.

As soon as it seemed like Suzume's stock of kunai was infinite Kazuya began to move. He set off at a walk, slowly and deliberately like a demonic reaper as his swords continue to spin, leaving twin tracks of sparks by his feet where the blades kissed the earth. His approach became so menacing that he saw the fear in his cousin's eyes by the before he reached half way.

By then he'd quickened his pace. Faster and faster the kunai were thrown, each one of them batted away by the samurai's continuous figure of eight. As he came within range Suzume panicked; now it seemed she was finally considering the possibility that Kazuya couldn't be beaten down, only she realised her mistake too late.

Kazuya caught up as the two playbacks vanished. She turned tail and broke into a run, defenceless, exposed and unprepared for the trained killer in her shadow. True ninja conditioned their reactions for these situations – to make their chance of survival higher and even take the opportunity to counter. The case was different for someone who'd spent all their time in simulated combat.

When faced with the intimacy of death Suzume was just as hopeless as any common peasant. No amount of training could prepare her for it – the closeness – the _reality _of one's own demise rapidly approaching like a chill wind from behind.

One more flourish and it was done. Kazuya overtook her as he lashed out once with the tail blade of his sword. He stopped, frozen in position after whirling to face his next opponent. The samurai didn't need to look to see the damage he'd done. He felt his sword cut through skin, sinew, muscle and bone; heard the dull 'thunk' of an object the weight of kickball bounce from the ground before rolling to a stop; smelled the stench of human flesh pervade his nostrils and saw the blood, dripping in rivulets down the length of his sword as the rest of Suzume's body flopped to the ground behind him.

In the wake of the attack Kazuya stared down Madoka, daring her to attack after witnessing with her own eyes Suzume's decapitation. He scanned her for any kind of weakness. Save for a brief look of annoyance she appeared at ease with the death of her daughter. A gleam came to her eye as she smirked.

"Interesting," she noted, still grinning.

"_Interesting?_" The samurai could scarcely believe his ears. "She was your daughter – your own flesh and blood! And all you can say is that it's '_interesting_'? What kind of people are you?"

"This is the way of the world," Madoka explained. "Our family doesn't assign sentiment to each member – if I die I expect no one to mourn me, because if I die it means I couldn't get the job done. She had her part to play and she failed. Am I sad to lose another user of the Jikogan? Sure, but it matters little anyway – her role will be filled just as soon as I bring you in."

The anger that had somewhat receded suddenly came bubbling back to the surface after Kazuya heard those words. The notion sickened him – these people were hardly human at all. She'd manipulated Suzume. He'd seen her devotion to Madoka first hand, obeying every order and even rushing into a battle she had no hope of winning. Right until the last moment he suspected Suzume's life had been dedicated to earning her mother's respect. Suddenly he couldn't help but pity her. If only things had been different for the girl.

"I'll never understand you people," he decided.

"I'm sure once Teijo does his thing we'll understand each other just fine," said Madoka, a thin smile tracing her lips.

"Make no mistake Madoka he's next on my list – and if I don't then there's a long list of ninja that'll get there first. But you're my enemy today. Before the hour is over you'll regret ever taking something precious from me."

Kazuya's chance arrived when the woman threw back her hair in a wild fit of laughter. He formed a single hand sign and cast it in her direction, letting his eyes take over as the words came to him. "_Jikansanpo!_"

Kazuya began his swing before the technique even began, zapping to a spot just two feet away as he drew and slashed up with a corkscrew of his body. His sword met only steel, as in her hands Madoka had retrieved a pair of kunai to defend with. Her strength was unreal for her slim build; despite Kazuya's full-bodied swing she managed to repel it with those two flimsy little ninja tools.

The samurai pushed harder in an attempt to overpower her. He'd trained himself physically ever since he was old enough – there was no way on earth he could be outmuscled by her. Unfortunately Madoka seemed to realise this too. She brought back her leg and aimed a savage kick straight at the Taisho's stomach.

Kazuya figured he could endure it – if he could stay in their test of strength he could conquer and defeat her early. It was a sound tactic, although he failed to consider Madoka's footwear.

Her soles and toecaps were plated with a layer of steel to make her kicks on par with even Bishamon's. When her foot drove into his gut it drove the wind from his lungs, a spray of spittle and blood escaping him as he clung desperately to consciousness. Another warp saw him safely at range, but Madoka was hardly complacent.

"_Lightning Style: Electro Whip Jutsu!_" The moment he heard the attack was the same moment it hit him, coiling around his ankle and fizzing through the cloth to burn his skin and send volts through his leg. Numbness and torn clothes soon became the least of his concerns as Kazuya was thrown off his feet.

Madoka twirled the whip over her head, her strength allowing her to take full advantage of the room and swing Kazuya about the entire cavern. Before he could react the Taisho was slammed headfirst into the web of stalactites. Rocks crumbled around him as he felt a rib or two break upon impact. This was hardly the fight he'd been expecting.

Before he could recover Kazuya was hurtling back down to ground level, dragged by the buzzing yellow whip snaked around his ankle, and then once again he was flung into the rocky walls of the cave. As Madoka picked a further target to throw him against Kazuya found an opportunity to free himself. He drew his sword, channelled chakra and swiped at the jutsu, finding himself in free-fall for a few seconds before warping back down to ground level with a hand sign.

No time to waste. Once free Kazuya moved on to another strategy, despite the state of his body.

"_Playback Three!_" Another copy digitised to life, this one pulling off hand signs as Madoka took aim with the whip. She lashed it once again, extending the electricity with her chakra whilst Kazuya stood in wait; it wouldn't reach him anyway.

"_Ice Style: Frozen Prison Jutsu!" _cried his copy.

Just like before, ice came rushing from the ground in an instant. It surrounded the floor by Madoka's feet and sprang up to form an igloo of sorts, hardened to be more than a metre thick. It wouldn't hold her for long he knew, but at least it saved him from that annoying whip for the time being.

After just moments had passed the icy fortress shattered. An explosive array of crystalline fragments marked the emergence of Madoka, darting across the terrain at the top speeds of the Jikogan with her kunai in hand.

It took him less than a second to see through it. The precision of the move – the weary face like this was the thousandth time she'd done it – the black and white pixels blinking in the background. It was a Playback, and a poorly disguised one at that. Kazuya jumped into a flip, clearing the copy's line of sight to escape whatever jutsu it had planned.

When he landed the Taisho's eyes went back to the broken prison. From there the real Madoka emerged, closing the space between them with a Jikansanpo as she resumed her attack.

With a blade in each hand she struck out deadly combinations at speeds even Kazuya struggled to keep up with. She was pressuring him, the constant rain of attacks forcing him on the back foot where all his attention was focused on saving himself from being stabbed.

Those two miniature blades formed a perfect marriage with her footwear to become Kazuya's nightmare in combat. Both hands and feet required either dodging or blocking, and whilst Kazuya's double bladed sword usually gave him the edge, this woman had _four _deadly points of attack to strike from.

Not only that, but her movements were flawless as well. She moved with the grace of a butterfly, her speeds shifting like water as she slashed and kicked, never stepping backwards. Her Jikogan was one thing, but to outmatch a samurai in close quarters combat? Kazuya grew more and more frustrated by the moment. He stood his ground and lashed out a complex sequence of attacks, first aiming low before twirling from his blade for a kick aimed to the temple. Madoka only dodged and gave him a cut across the arm for his efforts.

Their exchange only stopped when Madoka vanished in a streak of blue. Kazuya hadn't even noticed her form the required seal in the chaos, and as a result he felt the same studded boots crash into his spine for being caught unawares.

Spitting out blood, the Taisho tried the same technique. He aimed his hands and focused his chakra for a warp, and once he zapped at lightspeed he'd turn to another angle and shoot off again. The result was a confusing sequence of jumps as Madoka's eyes crossed the battlefield at dizzying speeds. One moment he was right in front of her, the next behind her, and the next up on the roof.

The whole technique continued only for about a dozen jumps until Kazuya made his move. He warped to her flank in a spinning slash, and half to his surprise managed to draw blood from the Senmatsu's ribcage before she leapt to safety. Her irritable look said it all; she was fuming that he'd managed to mark her. When she took him in the others would question it, and she'd have to explain that the brat somehow got lucky.

Her anger turned to amusement soon enough though, as the Taisho suddenly pitched forward with a hand slapped over his left eye. He struggled to stay on his feet; his temples and brow became greased in sweat as his breathing grew heavy. When he removed his hand Madoka saw the problem right away.

A single line of blood streaked down Kazuya's cheek. Already his eye had begun to bleed, a backfire of exploiting the Jikogan too much.

"So then, the young Taisho has his limits after all?"

Kazuya struggled against the pain, opening his eye to find his sight half-lensed in red. _No, not now! _He told himself. _It's too early for this – just a little longer!_ More time was all he needed; now that he'd wounded her Kazuya figured it was just a matter of time before victory was his. If only his body could hold out long enough.

"You're a fool to think you can kill me with a half-perfected technique. You haven't trained with that enough yet; you'll go blind if you keep this up."

"Losing my eyes seems like an easy price to pay for beating you," said Kazuya. Even as he spoke he knew how his words sounded – his voice cracked, the fierce vigour fleeing from it with every sentence.

Madoka chuckled. "Pay whatever you want kid, it still won't be enough."

This time Kazuya saw the movement – that same pose he adopted whenever he used the Jikansanpo. She vanished in a haze of blue, but this time he was ready. _I'm not falling for that one again. _Whirling around as he palmed the ground, the samurai brought another barrier of ice into existence with a pulse of his chakra.

For the first time in the fight his Kekkei Genkai did its job. Madoka's kunai met only a sheet of ice hard as rock, and when her hand smashed through it her awkward position allowed him to counter. Kazuya's boot slammed hard to the Senmatsu's arm to ground her as a second technique followed in its shadow.

"_Playback Two! Three!"_ Two more copies drew even more blood from Kazuya's left eye, but results had quickly become his only concern. The first recording fired a torrent of ice that forced her to defend, whereas the second used the time to seal Madoka in that same prison of frozen water.

The real Kazuya meanwhile got to work on casting hand signs, knowing time was short and his jutsu a long one; easy to mess up if he didn't pay close enough attention. Sign after sign he arched his fingers to until thirty had been and gone, releasing his chakra upon the final seal of the bird.

"_Ice Style: White Locker Jutsu!_" If nothing else the technique guzzled chakra from Kazuya like a parched elephant after water, draining colour from his face and breath from his chest to make him even more exhausted than ever. The effect was undeniable though.

From the samurai's feet a sheet of ice suddenly pooled, spreading and spreading with each passing moment to coat the entire cavern in a thin sheet of freeze. When Madoka broke free of his prison again it was a sight to behold; the walls and ceilings had also been claimed, transforming the cave into a stark white grotto that twinkled and smoked. He made sure to block the entrances too, meaning neither could escape and that no one would interfere. Whatever the outcome, this battle became permanent.

"Quite a party trick!" Madoka observed, her eyebrows lifting at the sight. "But I fail to see how it-" Her very point was answered when she lost her footing, stumbling for a moment on the slippery ground before regaining balance as though nothing had happened. "Ah," she realised.

"Making you unsteady is only half of it," said Kazuya.

"And the other half?"

The Taisho said nothing. Other ninja and even some samurai he knew would often go off on tangents and make long-winded explanations detailing their abilities. The intention was to provoke and scare, but Kazuya didn't see the point; if Madoka knew what he was planning then she'd watch out for it. The moment when she realised would be the moment he attacked.

_For now I need to keep her at a distance_, he thought. _She's too dangerous to fight up close. I just need to wait – ten minutes might do it_. The plan was simple enough, but ten more minutes in the ring with this woman – with his eye still crying blood by the second – would be easier said than done.

* * *

Outside the scene was a mess. Some nursed the wounded and some kept watch; the others were charged with sorting out the unconscious ninja they'd recovered – identifying them and loading them onto the herd of twelve foot long bison the samurai had summoned.

The canyon looked as threatening as ever, its high cliffs threatening to close them in and bar a quick escape. All the clones in the facility were dead, but lingering still gave Shoryu a feeling of unease. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, yet with Kazuya fighting down below he remained, twitchy and on-edge as his eyes roamed the canyon for any sign of another attack. Even Free admitted it might be likely if they stayed too long.

With so many wounded and most low on chakra another assault would be crippling. Of all the fighters gathered only he and Ayako had chakra left to spare, as Kazuya himself had done most of the work on their chosen route.

When an older samurai approached Shoryu and asked him about Bishamon, the commander found he didn't have the heart to tell the truth. He lied, saying he hadn't seen the Taisho since the start of the battle. It was only fair after all; as their new leader, Kazuya would want to be the one to tell them about the death of his predecessor.

Discounting the few that had died in the attack only two people remained unaccounted for. Kazuya was the first. The second, much to Shoryu's relief, came limping out of the shadows of the facility's entrance. From head to toe Hotaru was soaked in blood; his hair, his face and even his grand coat of orange and black had been stained red with the stuff, as though some butcher had opened up a pig with him standing beneath.

"I take it my men got all the patients out safely?" he asked, finally striding out into the light.

"Well yeah," said Shoryu, unblinking. "But seriously Hotaru, what the hell happened to _you?_"

"Oh it's alright." The boy replied. "Most of it isn't my blood."

Shoryu motioned to a single shuriken, sticking painfully from the back of the Jonin's thigh muscle to draw a river of blood all the way down to his heel. "What about that right there?"

Hotaru twisted his body awkwardly to get a better look at the blade, dangerously close to his ass. "Knew it, one of the bastards got me in the leg," he grumbled. With half a groan he jerked out the shuriken and twirled it around his finger, oblivious to the wound; he knew others needed attention more than he did.

"Can you still fight?" Shoryu asked, hopeful that someone else still had chakra left.

"What kind of a question is that?" said Hotaru. He looked offended by the notion. "Just a shame there's no one left _to _fight."

"Just checking."

"By the way." The Jonin tossed the shuriken as he sat to a crouch. "I kept on going down this weird cave. Figured that might be the stronghold y'know? Only I came up against this giant wall of ice blocking the way forward. Now _normally_ I'd just burn a hole straight through that thing and carry on regardless, but I saw that guy before the battle. Something tells me your samurai friend didn't wanna be disturbed."

Shoryu nodded. "Yeah, thanks for doing that; he's taking this really personally."

"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." Hotaru shrugged. "But Shoryu, I get the feeling you know as well as I do that we can't stay here long. It's foreign and out in the open. We already know clones patrol these areas – we fought that group on the way here. I know he's your friend and I hate to say it, but we can't wait forever for the samurai."

The Jonin's words were harsh but fair; every second they stayed endangered the lives of everyone present. Fortunately Shoryu had already taken it into account. "Don't worry I know. If he's not back soon Ayako and I will go in and get him. I know the way by now; I should be able to get in and out in a few minutes. Could you handle things here while we're gone?"

"No problem, just don't take your time. I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to. We did well to get out of this with only a few casualties, I'd hate to waste that."

"Understood." Once again Shoryu cast a nervous glance to the mouth of the cave – the opening of the clone's facility now littered with scattered weapons and splatters of blood. As of now, Kazuya was the last person they waited on – he, Suzume and Madoka were the only living souls in the entire complex, duking it out fifty feet below ground level. Suddenly Shoryu began to wonder whether leaving was a mistake.

To distract himself from paranoia the commander figured he'd check up on the newest addition to their little family. Fujiko had been loaded aboard the bison with the rest of the unconscious, volatile patients, but the unharmed baby remained in Jinga's care. After checking for any injuries the doctor swaddled the child in one of his spare, oversized shirts and fed him milk from his stash of supplies.

Ayako and Yuudai were gathered around him too, watching in wonder as Kazuya's baby stared at them with a look of confusion. He'd finally stopped crying once he smelled the open air, no doubt for the first time in his life. After being fed he even looked positively happy – he even squeaked in joy as he pulled on the fur tassels of a giant bison.

"He's a real cutie isn't he?" said Yuudai. "Hard to believe he's related to Kazuya."

After being handed the child Ayako rocked him steadily back and forth. She looked tense at first, as though she feared she might drop him, but at the baby's thrilled reaction her confidence grew. She looked at Shoryu and smiled. "You wanna hold him? You're his godfather after all."

"Umm." The Jonin paused; he feared battles less than babies – they were more familiar to him. He'd never held one in his life, nor did he have any desire to even _have _children ever since the day he was cast out of his own family, knowing any sons and daughters of his would only share the same fate. His choice was stripped however when Ayako handed him the child anyway.

As its pudgy face looked up at him Shoryu realised just how tender and fragile this baby was. The fact that this precious creature had survived unharmed for so long in such a place was a miracle unto itself, one he refused to let go to waste. Only then did he consider the idea that having kids might not be so bad after all. Maybe – when this was all over.

"He's really something," was all Shoryu managed. He held the child for a little longer before remembering what he'd come over for in the first place. As carefully as he could he passed the baby back to Jinga. "Do you have a minute Ayako?" he asked, jerking his head as a signal for them to get some privacy.

As perplexed as she was the kunoichi still shrugged and humoured him. "Sure thing."

A wolf whistle following them away made her tell Yuudai to shove it before the pair rounded a few bison and found themselves out of earshot. Ninja and samurai were too busy with their duties to pry on their conversation, the only people who might hear them being the out-cold patients they'd rescued from the facility.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Bishamon is dead," Shoryu revealed, in no mood to mince his words.

Ayako's frozen look of dread told him she was just as shocked as he was. She'd been there at the start; she saw the Taisho's power for himself when he cleared the entrance like it was nothing. His mastery of the ice style was second to none; if even he fell to Madoka and her daughter then what hope did Kazuya have? "_No way_," she gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth.

"I know." Shoryu looked glum. "Looks like our merry little trio is finally getting separated. We might not see as much of Kazuya anymore – he's leaving the ninja to assume his position. He's a few months away from being of age, but after today I doubt any samurai will object to him taking it up early."

"We knew it would happen one day," said Ayako, sighing in resignation. "Guess I just figured we had more time."

"Same here. . ." said Shoryu. He gave one more look to the opening, hopeful that his friend might suddenly appear in a blaze of victory. He never did. "I'm worried about him Ayako. Even if he makes it out of this, I don't know if he'll ever fully recover."

"Shh." In a rare show of affection the Ayako wrapped her arms around Shoryu and pulled him into a hug. Her actions were so sudden the he almost recoiled, being so close that he could smell her scented hair and feel her breath on his chest. "Anyone ever tell you that you worry too much these days?" she whispered. "Whatever happened to that carefree little kid I met all those years ago?"

Shoryu released an exhale, a breath he felt like he'd been holding in since the battle began. He could permit himself a moment to relax – he owed her that much at least. "With everything that's happened – the attack on our camp, my family; Kazuya. . . I can't just pretend there's nothing wrong anymore."

"We'll all pull through in the end," she assured him, holding him tighter. "We always do."

Shoryu smiled; at least he could always count on her to cheer him up. "Thanks Ayako."

* * *

Those ten minutes felt more akin to ten lifetimes. After they passed, more than half a dozen kunai had pierced Kazuya's skin. His muscles ached with a current of electricity and more than a few bones had fractured in the battle. Cuts and bruises painted his body, and throughout the entire ordeal he'd managed no more than a few scrapes on his opponent.

The time to strike had arrived, but in his mind Kazuya knew going all out now was half-likely to kill him. Red bolts cracked like circuitry across his left eye, bloodshot and bleeding now worse than ever. His vision shook like the whole cave had been claimed by a tremor – hardly an ideal condition for fighting the most powerful opponent he'd ever faced. Worse still, Madoka had adapted to sending chakra to her feet; she no longer slipped on the ice as she did before.

He'd managed to keep her at bay; being within ten feet was Madoka's danger zone – if he attacked there he knew she could have him subdued and broken with one lapse of focus. Only now did his chance arrive.

Kazuya wondered whether she'd noticed it herself: the goose-pimples across her arms and her hairs standing on end. In her moments of stillness her hand trembled too; already she'd had to repeat a number of hand signs after splendidly cocking up her jutsu. It was now or never. Whatever his current state, Kazuya wouldn't get another chance.

Ignoring the pain the samurai took aim with his hand sign. A cry of "_Jikansanpo!_" sent him immediately into the fray, his sword already twirling into a complex sequence of strikes. After dodging her for so long his sudden decision to attack caught Madoka off guard. Blades danced and sparks flew. Slash after slash Kazuya kept on the pressure, swinging controlled chaos, dishing out every trick he knew.

"_What the-_" As she upped her speed to match his, the samurai knew Madoka was finally going all out to stop him. With the two at their fullest they were evenly matched. Kazuya darted forwards, both hands launching a two-handed swing before his aunt span to safety.

On the counterattack Madoka showed him no quarter. With the Jikansanpo she rushed to a spot behind him, and as Kazuya turned he found himself swamped with a cluster of kicks so powerful he feared his sword might snap after blocking them. He jumped up, slashed out in response and vaulted into a kick from the tip of his sword upon landing, never getting more than a small break in Madoka's guard.

Her frustration was already visible as she struck again. From her pouch she loosed a swarm of kunai, and as Kazuya batted them away she bridged the distance and began again, still using the two in her hands to attack like a praying mantis, blades where her fists should've been.

In the end their furious trade of blows was brought to a halt as Kazuya's crossguard locked into place with the grips on Madoka's kunai. He overpowered her in an instant, and as he drove both blades to the ground he finished his assault by slamming his head against hers. Suddenly he wished he was still wearing his forehead protector; its steel plate might have knocked her out.

Even so, he got his desired effect when Madoka recoiled, nose bleeding. He followed up with a swing of his sword, getting tantalisingly close before the woman managed to warp away. He found her behind him, just ten feet away with a look of shock across her angled features.

Just minutes ago she'd dominated him at close range – he could scarcely lift his sword without her managing to cut him. In that time she'd only injured him further; he should've been weaker if anything. Why then did he now have the skill to match her? The answer hit her as she felt a shiver run up her spine.

Kazuya's jutsu – the one quilting the cavern in a layer of ice – had taken its toll on her. With her blood going cold her reactions became sluggish, her muscles and joints locking into place, preventing swift responses. The technique would work on any opponent given enough time, except of course one who'd spent his entire childhood on a glacier; Kazuya was in his element whilst she'd grown slower.

"Very clever," she mused, now finally out of breath. "You're strong Kazuya – stronger than my daughter ever was."

"Enough talk!" Kazuya marked his shout with another burst toward his mark. He lead his rush with a single blast of ice, and when that didn't work he took again to pounding the defences of his foe with repeated swings like a man possessed. Madoka fled, finding only javelins of ice snapping at her heels as he cast hand signs in a rage.

Once he more he flew at her, his anger this time betraying him. In exchange for more strength and willpower his tact went out of the window. Kazuya's moves were sloppy and full of openings; Madoka easily weaved away and buried another kunai in his shoulder – right where his armour parted for air.

Kazuya howled in pain as blood fountained from the wound. He swore under his breath upon seeing the change; he was starting to lose consciousness, having sacrificed far too much blood and chakra to remain on his feet much longer. _Is this really all I could do? _He wondered, gritting his teeth and pulling himself back up. Each wound screamed in complaint at his actions, drawing more blood as if to punish him for persevering.

Kazuya watched as Madoka dashed away once more. He thought to himself that if he was in her position, he'd use the opportunity to end the fight once and for all with a finishing blow. Of course, she couldn't do that; they would take him before Teijo to have his mind enslaved, and for that they needed him alive.

It was only in considering that when a chance to win presented itself to the Taisho. He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. They _needed _him alive – no matter what he did Madoka was forbidden to land a fatal blow. It was something he could use to his advantage, a tactic few ninja would think of, but a move common amongst samurai. She'd never see _this _coming.

As he spat out another mouthful of blood Kazuya reached one hand behind his back. One by one he undid the clasps holding his crimson armour in place, knowing the excess weight would only slow him down. The faint swimming and frequent blackouts of his half-red eyesight told him he had perhaps a minute of consciousness left at a stretch. Smiling, the samurai closed drew his sword, hoping only that all his limbs remained intact once it was all over.

"Still fancy your chances?" taunted Madoka.

Kazuya didn't answer; talking would only waste energy. Instead he set off towards her once again, his eyes spiralling for one last jutsu. "_Playback One!_"

For the third time in the fight another Kazuya was unleashed, overtaking the original as it began its attack. Madoka had seen this one before: it ran in a straight line and carved an arc in the floor – a delayed attack that made a crystalized swerve of jagged ice sprout up from the cut it left in the earth. That same move had led to Suzume's defeat.

Vowing to not let it get that far, Madoka ran to meet it. She matched its swing before its blade touched the rocks, and out from behind it the real thing flew in, screaming one final war cry as he readied his prized sword. With her second kunai Madoka repelled the attack, her weapon bouncing away from the sheer power of the blow. Sparks flew and combat stopped for a blink's duration as both fighters readied another swing.

After his first attempt with the back edge failed Kazuya brought up the nose-end of his sword. Simultaneously Madoka brought down her first kunai again. Any fighter could see she was faster; Madoka herself counted on Kazuya bringing up his sword to defend, or at least jumping back out instinct. He did neither.

Instead her kunai made a direct hit. A single slash opened up part of Kazuya's face, searing down from the midpoint of his forehead and cutting straight through his left eye before ending in a spray of blood at his cheek. In any normal fight such a wound would mean a loss.

But Kazuya's sword didn't stop. 'Losing my eyes seems like an easy price to pay for beating you' he'd told her before. Luckily only one proved to be enough.

The curtains closed on the fight as Kazuya rammed his sword through Madoka's stomach, the thrust sending a smattering of blood to the ice. Through his one remaining eye he saw the spirals fade from hers as she gave her last breath, and without another pause he twisted violently and jerked out the blade. He stayed poised on both feet as she fell dead to the ground.

Kazuya stood for a few moments, his sword still raised as a sign of victory, both edges still coated in the life's blood of his two opponents. He felt himself blacking out as his breath began to slow down – a sign that he'd finally managed to regain some clarity. For the first time in months he could be at peace; it was over – his vengeance had been taken. His pride, and the pride of the Glacier, had been restored.

"_Worth it_," he told himself.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Heheh, whenever stuff gets intense it's good to know we can always count on Kazuya to be a total badass. It's sad that he's lost his eye, but then again having one magic eye instead of two in Naruto really seems to mean jack all, except when you get to the level of god-like powers the series now has for its villains (which I never intend to reach anyway).

Kazuya's last tactic is essentially 'take a smaller blow to dish out a heavier one' – you see him doing it in the previous chapter as well, only to a lesser degree. It's actually a technique often used by some boxers believe it or not. Tried it myself a few times, with admittedly varying results :S

Lastly in case anyone's wondering about the Japanese here, 'Jikansanpo' translates to 'Time Walk'. So far you might recall that all the Jikogan techniques have been based on the functions of a video camera. The basic move is a slow-down feature and the Playback is essentially a 'recording' type move; the Jikansanpo/Time Walk then is basically a 'next chapter' function, like when you skip forward when watching a video or playing a DVD. It allows him to move at lightspeed, but only to a spot that he can see. It's also limited in that he has to use a hand sign, meaning he has to sheath and re-draw his sword every time he uses it.

But despite Kazuya's injuries, those who have been paying attention will remember that this isn't the end of the battle at all! Some more enemies are on the way, so Shoryu's paranoia it seems isn't unfounded. With so many out of commission what hope do our heroes stand against another garrison of ninja? And will Reizo reach them in time? This should be the best chapter of them all guys – get psyched for it :D


	33. Chapter 33 Out of the Frying Pan

Chapter 33: Out of the Frying Pan

The first thing that hit Shoryu was the cold. Last time the old crypt of the Senmatsu lair was considerably warmer, but as he and Ayako burst into the hall through a wall of frost the temperature dropped at least twenty degrees. It was easy to see why: the entire cave had become a freezer with a fresh coat of white ice slathered across its walls and floor.

The Jonin looked away cringing at the sight of Suzume Oyama, her head precisely three feet from her neck, rolling around in a puddle of blood. Ayako gave a squeal and he pretended not to notice. Further ahead the scene was just as much of a mess. It was hard to make out at first, but two distinct figures lay mirroring each other on the ground, face down on crimson ice.

Closer inspection proved what he suspected: it was Madoka and Kazuya. With his heart in his throat Shoryu flipped over the samurai he spent the last four years with, fearing the worst. His terror was proved unfounded as Kazuya drew breath – a gasp escaping him as he returned to consciousness. Blood covered his armour, so much that Shoryu had no clue how much damage he'd really taken. His face lost colour from chakra exhaustion, and to make matters worse his eye was a mess.

A single jagged wound ran all the way through his left eye. He kept it shut, as Shoryu suspected he would for the rest of his life, but the wound itself wouldn't close without proper treatment. Worse still was the mangling of his shoulder. That much Shoryu could at least help out with. He took off his jacket and wrapped it tight around the wound, letting red stains seep into the fabric of his father's blue coat; surely it would wash out.

"Moron," muttered Shoryu. "Would've been easier if you'd just let me help."

"You'll understand it someday. I would've given anything to take her life," said Kazuya. Shoryu suddenly got the impression he wasn't all there; perhaps all the blood loss had made him euphoric.

"So she's dead then?" Just to check, Ayako span around and placed a cautious finger to the woman's neck, feeling for a pulse. Nothing – she was gone, but Kazuya didn't need telling that. He knew the severity of the wound he'd delivered; having so many organs damaged at once would've killed her on the spot.

"Yeah, I got her good," he said. Kazuya made an effort to move, finding only the pain of his wounds to keep him down. "This is shameful of me to ask, but any chance I could get a lift?"

Sighing, Shoryu bent to pick up the Taisho to carry him to safety, but Kazuya had other ideas. He waved away Shoryu's hand and gave an awkward smirk. "Maybe Ayako should," he proposed.

Shoryu arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because you're stronger, and _he's _a hell of a lot heavier than I am." A shaky finger pointed just a few metres further down the cave, where Bishamon lay motionless in a pond of his life's blood. Shoryu understood right away; Kazuya was asking him to bring his predecessor's remains too. The man was a giant – far too big for someone of Ayako's size to carry over a great distance. Shoryu wondered whether even he could carry something that big.

"Just imagine it's food supplies. You got pretty good at carrying them if I remember," chided Kazuya, remembering a time long ago when Reizo-sensei had tried to toughen him up.

"Very funny. I suppose you still want my help?" snapped Shoryu.

"That would be great, yeah."

The Jonin held back an insult as Ayako gave an apologetic look, hoping another fight wouldn't break out between the two at such an untimely moment. Reluctantly Shoryu obeyed; burial was important for samurai he knew. Denying Kazuya his funeral would be cruelty beyond anything he knew, so after steeling himself for an ordeal Shoryu lifted the elder samurai.

Even with his whole arm slung over the boy's shoulder, Bishamon's feet still dragged across the floor when Shoryu started walking. The man's weight was unreal; all that muscle mass combined with his natural size to form something heavier than Shoryu had ever dared to try and lift. In the end it wasn't as bad as he first figured. The stairs would be his only annoyance.

Ayako looked to have a much easier time carrying Kazuya, and for the first time in a while he seemed back to normal. Even half-dead and losing blood he still continued to offer japes at Shoryu's expense, as though insulting the commander distracted him from the pain of his wounds. In the end the Jonin retaliated in full force. With his spare hand Shoryu fished around in his pouch and found a small battle.

"Drink this." He handed it over. "It'll help."

Without a word Kazuya popped off the cork and guzzled it down. It was medicinal – he knew that much – but something else was there too, some form of liquor. It was undoubtedly one of Jinga's special poultices, but he still had to ask.

"The hell is that?"

"Rum," Shoryu lied.

"Why rum?"

"I figured you'd want some."

"Why would you assume I wanted rum?"

Ayako snorting in laughter beneath him gave Kazuya cause for concern. What were they up to? With his condition so dire the joke's meaning escaped him. Shoryu pursued it further.

"I dunno, I just did," he replied.

"Well don't."

"Aye aye Kazuya."

"'Aye aye'?" If his arm could move Kazuya would've scratched his head as he turned to Shoryu. Craning his neck did nothing; everything left of his nose was now a blind spot, meaning he saw nothing of the sniggering teen stood beside him. Finally he got the joke – his eye was the brunt of it. "I'm not a damn pirate!" he insisted suddenly.

"Whatever you say Cap'n."

* * *

Reizo's speed reached new heights as he burst from a series of catacombs and followed the trail west. With the Daimyo Raikyogan active he used it to increase his speed, doubling the rate of his synapses firing to pump his muscles full of supercharged bioelectricity. Through blue-lensed eyes he saw the occasional circuitry of a rabbit or a deer in the hedges nearby, but only recently had he begun to notice people.

He managed to slip past the first few undetected, but as their frequency increased he was often spotted in his hurry, meaning he had to take down two or three highwaymen to press on. Killing them revealed the men to be clones; it told him he was on the right track.

His first day in their pursuit had been dreadful, covering less than half of the ground he'd crossed in the last two. Following the tracks of ninja was difficult at speed; they were light on their feet and made a habit of leaving the ground undisturbed, making catching them a pain unless one knew their exact route. Samurai were another story, their heavy armour making stealth impossible. Reizo had found the exact clearing where close to fifty samurai had joined up with the others, and from then on tracking became easy.

Even when running his fastest, keeping one eye trained on the ground at all times meant Reizo could follow without much trouble. The only thing bothering him was the clear disadvantage of time he had. Shoryu and his group had a two-day lead. Even the Raikage, running his fastest with only four hours of sleep a night, would be hard pressed to make up the difference. Saito had the truth of it; in all probability they were dead already, but as long as the chance remained Reizo would carry on chasing them.

The Kage's claustrophobic sprint came to an end when he found himself at an opening in the trees. He stopped for a moment, fascinated by the scene that lay before him. A great bog of muck and filth spanned like an ocean between him and the next rise, with no end to it in either direction. Fortunately Shoryu's group had clearly come through here, as a path of ice bridged the swamp in its entirety.

Bursting back into speed the Raikage started to cross it. The ice already started to melt beneath his feet, but it still held its shape fine enough. Its age told him much; they'd been here not long ago – an hour or two at his best guess. Finally Reizo felt as though he'd made some headway. If they were this close then he might just reach them in time. The thought brought more speed to his soles as he crossed the frozen sea.

The idea that he might be fighting soon occurred to him. With a stroke of his right hand his spear was out beside him, extended to its full length as he ran a few volts down it.

_Stay alive guys, I'll be there soon_.

* * *

When the trio emerged once again into the expanse of the canyon Kazuya grew sombre. Shoryu had almost forgotten about the man slung over his shoulder, and what significance his death meant. Samurai quickly gathered around them as confusion spread; their new leader's expression confirmed he was dead. Some wailed in shameless tears, others bowed in fealty to Kazuya, and some even asked permission to take their own lives.

In fact Bishamon's death gained such attention – even amongst the ninja – that people overlooked the new Taisho's injuries. Eventually, when a ninja began to notice the gash down his eye, his newfound zeal made him think the samurai was already healed. Yuudai smiled and gave a giant thumbs up.

"_Yohoho _Kazuya!"

Kazuya's patience ran out. "Any chance I could get some help over here? Or you could just let me _bleed to death!_"

"Bleeding to death sounds good," said Shoryu.

"Out of the way! Out of the way!" Right on cue Jinga appeared. Samurai gave him abhorrent looks as he shoved his way through them, nearly tripping more than once until he finally reached the group. His hands were already covered in blood; he looked exhausted, and if the few threads left in his sewing bag were any indicator then he'd been treating wounds all day.

For all his medical expertise the young doctor was poor at reading social situations. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see tempers flaring as the samurai came to grips with the idea of a new era; Kazuya was now their number one priority. As such, some foreign doctor pulling out a needle and taking it to the Taisho's wound didn't go down too well.

A samurai in his thirties strode forward, his expression one of outrage as he slowly drew a blade and pointed it at Jinga's back.

"Hands off the young lord foreigner. Unless you want my sword through your gut, that is."

Jinga froze, fear visible in his eyes. His hands trembled with the sanitised needle and the chakra filling his palms formed unsteady flashes as his nerve was tested. The thought that he might die at any second seemed to flash across his mind, although Shoryu rose to put it at rest.

Two identical scrapes of honed steel echoed around the clearing as the Jonin drew both swords. He rose up faster than any could react, and before another blade could join their standoff he stood with two swords his pressed to the offender's neck. The samurai wavered for a moment and met his gaze; a mistake considering the fact that Shoryu virtually towered over him with a disgusted look of anger.

"If you put your sword to my man again – or if you open your stupid mouth one more time – then I'll give you a new one to speak from," he said, making sure the samurai could _feel _the sharpness of his swords. Around him the others from the Glacier traded glances of uncertainty, but Kazuya was there to put their fears at rest.

"Stand down Noda, idiot. You distrust these ninja after we fought beside them and broke bread with them these last few nights?" he said, still amazed that samurai could be so stubborn.

"When a pair of ninja bring out my Taisho dead and his successor without an eye, who do you think I'd trust then?"

"_I _trust them," Kazuya insisted. "And that should be good enough for all of you. Our enemy – the Senmatsu – were the ones who injured me. Bishamon died fighting them. Without the ninja we couldn't have gotten even this far. Don't be too quick to condemn them; it's your eyes that are deceiving you, not them."

For a few moments Shoryu thought he'd never put down the sword – he even looked about to turn it upon himself. After thinking on Kazuya's speech however he seemed to be satisfied, and with a curt nod he holstered his sword. Silence descended about the camp as the Taisho captured the gaze of everyone present.

"We can mourn Bishamon and put our affairs in order when the mission is done. Right now we need to get out of here. Shoryu, you mentioned this place was dangerous?"

Shoryu nodded, his eyes glancing round the clearing. "Yeah – it's not exactly the _ideal _place to hang around for very long."

"Then we should set off right away." Only one thing still troubled Kazuya; he cast his eyes to the yawning mouth of the shadowed cave. Beyond there the gloom only got worse. The place was now a graveyard for fallen ninja and samurai – a house of torture where barbaric experiments had been conducted by the day. "Even so, I'm not sure how I feel about leaving this facility still standing."

"You and me both." Hotaru strode forward, fresh from having his wounds dressed as he waited for Kazuya's arrival. He'd traded in the trench knives in favour of open palms, knowing he'd need only hand signs for his newest assignment. "Leave the demolitions to me – I'll burn this place to the ground. You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up when I'm done here; shouldn't take me any longer than half an hour."

Shoryu was about to agree when Hotaru carried on walking regardless. He wasn't looking for consent; the Jonin was just as much in charge of this mission as Shoryu was – he could do whatever he liked. Even so, the Cloud's commander quickly found reason to worry when Hotaru disappeared into the darkness of the base. His figure became a shadowed outline as he ventured further in, until his footsteps clacking off steel could were the only proof of his being there.

Then the fire started.

Shoryu covered his face and jumped away as a sudden explosion leapt from the mouth of the cave, black and red as it smoked into a billowing flare before disappearing completely. When he looked back the base was on fire; the floors, walls and ceiling caught the blaze as easy as dry tinder, and within just a few moments girders and panels began to fall in the pyre.

Another portion detonated as more flames curled from the opening, then a third nearly singed Shoryu's eyebrows. Anxious, he turned to a ninja beside him – one of Hotaru's operatives.

"You sure he'll be alright in there?"

The ninja scoffed a laugh in reply. "Don't worry, he does this stuff all the time. The only thing we need to worry about is not being here when he gets back; he'll be pissed if we ignored his command."

"Alright guys you heard the man! Let's be on our way," announced Shoryu.

"Us too. Gather the bison, we're leaving," Kazuya echoed.

As he shielded his eyes from the stinging heat Shoryu waved his other arm eastward. In a single unit the samurai and ninja set out. At the front ninja scouts checked ahead for ambushes, and half a dozen samurai shepherded the flock of furry bison trailing behind. Last were Shoryu and the others. Kazuya insisted on walking despite his injuries, an arm constantly resting on someone's shoulder for support.

Although Fujiko's condition still remained uncertain the new Taisho seemed satisfied with the mission's outcome. He knew now that he'd done all he could whatever the result. Shoryu felt happy for him; it was a while before he'd seen him walk with his head held high, but the same applied for all of them. This mission had hung over them like a storm cloud for the last two months – not a day went by that they didn't steel themselves for this inevitable endeavour to rescue Fujiko.

Now at last Shoryu could relax. The mission was a success, they'd taken few casualties and the opponent was slain. At the end of the week he'd receive a nice fat pay rise too, such were the perks of being a permanent Jonin. Now all his thoughts looked ahead, to getting home and telling his sensei all about how awesomely things had gone. He felt lighter and carefree once again; for a moment he almost felt thirteen again.

Shoryu motioned to his jacket wrapped around Kazuya's shoulder and grinned. The faded violet crest of the Senmatsu was smeared over with a splash of the blood – a nice coincidence after what just transpired. "We'll see a lot more of that before the year's up," he promised.

"Sure hope so," said the Taisho. "I won't rest until every one of them answers for their crimes."

"You'll contact me if you get any leads right? I mean you're not the only one with a personal stake in all this."

"Of course, but I should be the one saying that," Kazuya went on. "The samurai don't exactly have much of an intelligence agency – at least not compared to the ninja. Not sure what kind of leads you think we'll get."

"Good point." As Shoryu continued his merry walk a strange observation caught his attention. He could've sworn they set off during the day – with the sun at its zenith on a sweltering afternoon. Now it seemed they were walking in shadow, as though some giant thundercloud had come out of nowhere and sat itself on top of them. He jabbed Kazuya on the arm, careful not to hit his wounds. "Is it just me or did it get a whole lot darker all of a sudden?" he asked.

The Taisho stopped and looked at the ground, thinking back as he caught up to Shoryu's point. His eyebrows narrowed as he met the commander's eyes, showing the same notion of curious concern. "Yeah. . ." he said.

The pair turned to get a better view of their surroundings. Beams of light thin as twigs littered the ground behind them where the sun cracked through, shifting, vanishing and reappearing by the moment like the summer surface beneath a tree. Only there was no tree above them.

As the two lifted their eyes to the sky they caught sight of what blotted out the sun. High above a swarm of black shapes hurtled through the sky as one, varying in speed and size, accelerating by the second. Kazuya used his hand to cover his one good eye, getting a better look. "What is that? Birds?" he asked.

Shoryu shielded his own eyes and inspected the flock. The objects – whatever they were – bowed down on a course straight towards them. Only as they began to fall did Shoryu realise what they really were. He could defend a small target like himself from the rain about to come, but all these people here with him? They'd be annihilated. "_It's not birds_," he realised, pupils dilating in horror.

"_LOOK OUT!_" came the wail of a terrified ninja.

"Is that _shuriken?_" Kazuya asked; finally he reached the same conclusion.

Shoryu prayed it was Genjutsu as the storm of projectiles grew closer and closer. Arming himself, the Jonin prepared to do all he could.

"_Shading Jutsu: Eternal Dome!_" cried Ayako.

In all his years fighting beside her Shoryu had never seen anything like it. Ayako's half-sphere of transparent yellow chakra never shielded more than a dozen people at a time. Its size this time grew to ridiculous proportions, expanding to a full dome that engulfed the land around their marching platoon. The Jonin span around to face her, knowing that level of chakra was something she never attempted before.

Ayako kept both hands planted firmly on the ground. Already she looked dizzy from merely conjuring it, but when the rain fell her expression turned to agony. Every sharp object that bounced off the dome was like a blunt instrument to her body as she thrashed left and right in recoil. The amount of concentration required left Shoryu in awe; even as invisible hits ricocheted from her body she kept channelling more and more chakra – lifting her hands by just a centimetre would bring the pain to a close, but in saving the group she endured to the very end.

Shoryu figured those ten seconds were like a lifetime to Ayako. As the Eternal Dome shattered into a thousand wayward fragments she let her eyes close and muscles relax, certain now that metallic rain was at an end. She fell limply to the ground, and fortunately Shoryu was there to catch her. Her eyelids flickered for a moment before opening again completely. On her face was a look of apology – of regret for not being able to do more. Confusion spread throughout the ranks as the girl addressed her commander.

"Sorry Shoryu. . ." she muttered, slowly catching her breath. "I think that used up all my chakra."

"Idiot." He gave a smile. "Don't be sorry, just take it easy." After setting her down gently Shoryu suddenly whirled around to face the others. "Alright what the hell was that?"

"_Over there!_" It was Jinga who spoke. With a set of binoculars in hand he pointed west across the canyon, all the way to the other side where a new set of enemies appeared. An army, perhaps three hundred strong, stood at the lip of the opposing rise as they assembled a formation. They marched down the slope right into the gorge's basin, their speed indicating full chakra and stamina. It was more than Shoryu could say for his troop – every samurai and ninja present looked about to keel over.

"More clones?" he asked.

Jinga shook his head glumly. The reality was far worse. "No, it's Stone ninja."

"_Stone _ninja?" asked Shoryu, dumbfounded. He'd fought them only a few times – a ruthless bunch now that they were under the reign of the Thirteenth Tsuchikage. Reizo had warned him about them on more than one occasion. Behind a striking exterior Hisae Kokowa would stop at nothing to further her ambitions; she charmed her people with false promises and rewards to the point of nearly brainwashing.

"We fight with them over this land all the time," offered one of Hotaru's Leaf ninja. "But I don't understand – the briefing said this area was clear!"

But Shoryu understood right away. Of course the briefing said that: _Saito _had delivered the report from the scouting unit. A stab of hatred washed through him; he could stand the bastard trying to get his own back, but involving all these innocent lives was a stretch too far. He'd doomed them all.

"You were saying something about our intelligence agency Kazuya?" said Shoryu. "Well if you ever create one take a tip: _no_ intelligence is better than _bad _intelligence."

"Noted."

"More to the point, why aren't they attacking again?" Shoryu's eyes never left the army, expecting another wave of sharp objects at any moment. "You'd think they'd throw another round by now and just put us out of our misery."

_After they saw Ayako's technique they probably figure we have an elite ninja on our squad, _said Free. _They'll get in closer for a better aim before they attack again. We have perhaps two or three minutes_.

"Terrific." Three minutes was more than enough time – Shoryu had an answer in three seconds. He searched for any alternative, another way that might save them, but as much as he watched the army, counted his men and looked for all the nearest escape routes there was only one that remained certain. With his mind made up Shoryu gave his last order. There was no other option.

"_Listen up!_" he called, projecting his voice so all could hear. "I need you all to keep heading back the way we came! Get over that bank as quickly as you can, then keep going until you reach that swamp we crossed! If you destroy the ice bridge behind you then you should be able to escape! . ." Shoryu hung on his last sentence. It came out with more fear and uncertainty than he meant it to, but nevertheless the words finally formed – four words that raised madness from those he counted amongst friends:

"I'll keep them busy."

As the others panicked Shoryu turned his back and strode in the enemy's direction, splitting off from the squadron to face his death. He made it ten steps out before Kazuya intervened.

"_Shoryu! _Wait up!" he called.

Shoryu stopped for him as the Taisho hobbled over. If anyone deserved a farewell it was Kazuya. His eye shone with concern and sympathy when he spoke: "You don't have to do this, we'll fight with you," he offered.

"No, this is personal. I let you go at it solo earlier; do the same for me," said Shoryu.

But Kazuya wasn't convinced. "How _exactly _is this personal? We've all got as much at stake here!"

"Listen to me." Shoryu slung his arm around the boy's shoulder, muttering quietly so that no one else would hear them as he took him aside. "This is Saito's brilliant plan to get back at me. I won't let anyone else get involved."

Kazuya realised it with a nod, yet still he didn't budge, silently contemplating his next move. Shoryu had never displayed such valour before, and he didn't act on a whim. He'd thought about this enough and decided he cared enough about the mission to die for it. To refuse him would be an insult. As the samurai debated losing his best friend another called out from the squadron.

"Shoryu it's suicide!" said Yuudai.

"Yeah, no kidding," he answered. "But it's our only choice – no one else has any chakra. I'll hold them as long as long as possible and take as many down with me as I can. You should be able to get away."

A samurai from the ranks then drew a katana, brandishing it in the air as he addressed the young commander. "We don't take orders from ninja!" he announced. "And we don't run away either – the shame of it would be too great. We're fighting them whether you say so or not; a death in battle knows no equal in glory."

"You don't take your orders from ninja, you take orders from _me_. Bishamon appointed me second-in-command here, and you'll get no orders from his corpse," reminded Kazuya. He gave Shoryu one last look. The boy's resolve was concrete; his eyes trained upon the Hidden Stone ninja like a hawk in waiting.

"And I say we leave," he continued, "This ninja has things covered."

The samurai looked outraged. With the Taisho's first command being an act of perceived cowardice it would be difficult now to enact a respectable rule over them. These men were trained fighters, some two or even three times Kazuya's age. The young lord's orders went against everything they stood for.

"Bishamon would've stayed and fought!" insisted one of them.

"Bishamon is _dead!_" Kazuya snapped, "And he wouldn't want his men to follow him to the grave. What do you achieve by dying here? An honourable death? What of your families? What about the winter? What about the crops that need sewing back in the village? You'd leave your wives and children alone just because you were too ashamed to run? These isn't even our war. As long as I'm in charge I won't let you die so selfishly, and if anyone has a problem with that they can take it up with me in combat once we get back."

From the looks on their faces every single samurai had a problem with that, but none dared challenge the Taisho. Despite his youth they'd seen first-hand the power he wielded, and he flashed his eye to a blinking spiral if only to remind them about it. Grumbling, the samurai turned back to the road ahead to shepherd the bison. Already the ninja had begun to move.

Jinga and Yuudai lingered in place for a moment. Shoryu met their gaze and nodded, and with glum looks of depression the pair turned away, determined not to look back no matter how much chaos ensued below.

Shoryu turned to the army once again, more at ease with the situation. A closer look proved his hands to be shaking.

"Most of my men don't have half your honour," lamented Kazuya.

Shoryu forced a smile. "You're a disappointment, I was expecting tears."

"I'll save them for your funeral."

The two shared a laugh as Kazuya gave him a fierce embrace. Blood from his armour formed splodges on Shoryu's shirt at the contact; it wouldn't matter soon anyway.

"Take care of yourself – your wife and son too. And if it's alright, I'd rather you were the one to tell my mom what happened here."

"Of course. Anything you need."

"Now get gone; you don't have much time."

Not wishing to keep him any longer, Kazuya parted the hold and gave a final wave as he made his way back to the group.

Shoryu stared ahead. With both swords at his belt the Jonin began to plot a route in his mind; what jutsu to use and what methods would be quickest to take out his enemies. Of course there were no guarantees; against three hundred he'd be lucky to even reach them before they skinned him alive with shuriken. The last thing he wanted was fall within three steps after vowing to hold them all off to everyone he knew.

"_I'm staying,_" said a voice; Shoryu knew whose it was before he even turned.

Ayako stood in waiting, split off from the group as she faced Shoryu alone. Kazuya kept watch from the rear to make sure she didn't do as she claimed – Shoryu knew he'd knock her out if he had to. It would be a shame if it came to that, so he tried to resolve it without violence. He owed her enough to at least try and make her see reason.

"No you're not," he insisted. "Don't be ridiculous!"

Tears came to her eyes, a spectacle Shoryu had never witnessed until now. Ayako never cried, not even when he'd seen her break a leg at the Chunin exams, or when their camp had been massacred at the hands of the enemy. She'd hardened herself to the lifestyle of a ninja, but losing close friends it seemed was too much to bury away.

"I'm not just leaving you here to die!" she said.

"Better just one of us than both of us!"

Ayako continued to sob as she covered her mouth with her hands. "But why does it have to be _you_?" she choked out.

Her words made Shoryu speechless, an empty pit of guilt wallowing up in his stomach at the sight of making her cry. Despite all the rational logic he applied, when he spoke it still felt like an excuse – some convoluted reason to leave her alone forever. "Not long ago we realised only me, you and Hotaru had any chakra left to fight," he explained. "No one can reach Hotaru in that fire and you just used up all yours. You can barely walk! You'll only be in the way!"

Shoryu learned long ago that sometimes hard truths were necessary. Never had he felt worse delivering one. Ayako's devastated gasp told him the words hit hard. She hunched her shoulders and continued to cry as Shoryu spared an anxious look to the approaching army – time was short, but Ayako wouldn't move.

"_I'm still staying_," she muttered, stubborn as ever.

That obstinate quality was one of the few things that frustrated Shoryu about her. She knew it was pointless – that what he said was right – but logic found itself crushed under the weight of feelings and loyalty. Ayako couldn't bring herself to turn away. Shoryu saw only one way to save her life.

"Of all people, I never thought I'd have to pull rank with you," he said, and after a long sigh he carried on. "Ayako Tsuji, as your commanding officer I am _ordering _you to leave now and lead these people to safety. You really want your last record to be dying like an idiot and refusing to follow orders? You're better than that! You're gonna have to get used to seeing people you care about die; you're going to be the next Raikage after all!"

Shoryu watched the impact of his speech in detail. Ayako bit down on her lower lip, quivering as she stared at the ground for a few moments. The tears stopped and her hands began to tremble instead. He noticed Kazuya with a hand on his sword, ready to smack her with the butt of it if she took too long. When he looked back to Ayako she was completely still.

With zest in her stride the kunoichi suddenly marched towards him, eyes still following the floor as she walked. She raised her hand, and in expecting an attack Shoryu almost flinched away from it. Instead the last thing he expected came to pass. Without words or prior warning, Ayako only pulled him into a deep kiss.

A breathless Shoryu escaped into bliss as he allowed his four year dream to finally come true. Around them the world vanished; nothing mattered anymore save for this moment of pure nirvana. She was even more than he expected, her lips sweet and moist, leaving him with an aftertaste of cherry when they parted at last. When his eyes opened the sight greeting Shoryu was one of her eyes, blue and sparkling, staring up with a smile to make him wish he could do it all over again. He was tempted to try.

"Whoa. . ." His sharp tongue failed him, a breath of awe taking the place of a cohesive sentence. "Worth it," he finally managed.

Ayako tilted her head. "What was?"

"My life until now."

The girl blushed and smiled back as Shoryu released another exhale, this one weary and frustrated; the Stone closed in. Their footfalls grew heavier now, audible on the canyon floor as they moved at a quicker pace. In thirty seconds they'd be upon them, and after that there was nothing he could do to save them.

"You need to go," he lamented, wishing only that they had more time. He hated to leave things this way; so much went unsaid.

"I know," she replied. After planting a final swift kiss on him Ayako finally released her hold of his shirt. "Thank you." There was nothing more to say. She turned and didn't look back, knowing the pain of it would be too great, the urge to return inescapable. Shoryu turned as well, setting off towards the Stone's army with his heart still beating like a drum. There were no more regrets – he could go now with a clear conscience.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Made this a double chapter since it got waaaay too long for just one, so if you want to see what happens to Shoryu you can do so right now! And holy crap! Romance in Legacies! I dunno about you guys but my only thought was 'FINALLY'. I mean I've heard of taking your time but four years? God these ninja are so hopeless!


	34. Chapter 34 Awakening

Chapter 34: Awakening

As the army advanced Shoryu gave an occasional glance back to check how far away his friends were. Half a minute passed and they'd reached the base of the stony slope they traversed earlier. Good; the sooner they got over it the better. What worried him though, was the fact that the Stone fleet stopped in place. Looking closer proved that they each readied a projectile. Would they aim for the retreating forces or for him: the lone attacker stood a hundred yards away?

There was only one way to be sure, and that was to draw their fire. Luckily Shoryu had something stored within him ready to explode. He was more than happy to draw both swords, raise them to the skies, fill his lungs with air and scream at the top of his voice:

"_SSCOOOOOORRE!_"

The platoon hesitated as a smile came to Shoryu's lips. Behind him Ayako would be blushing as red as her scrolls, Free would be confused, Jinga would be close to tears and Kazuya would be chuckling to himself, proud that Shoryu could go out in such a way. Opposite him however, the story was much different. Stone ninja looked left and right at each other, trading bemused glances as they tried to work out what kind of a threat he was – whether it was some kind of strange battle cry or just a ninja who'd lost his mind in fear.

"Ahhhh, that felt good," Shoryu said to himself. Nothing else remained but to charge them with everything he had. Half a mile of open space separated him from the forces opposing, giving them a whole three minutes before he smashed into their vanguard with both swords ablaze. Shoryu wondered whether he'd last that long.

As he ran a second blanket of shadows swept over him, indicating another cluster of sharp objects he'd be forced to avoid. At least he managed to divert their attention away from the fleeing squadron; they saw the lone ninja sprinting towards them as their only threat for the time being, and so with another shower of blades they aimed to finish him once and for all.

"Oh look at that, more shuriken," he mused. Crossing both swords, the commander harnessed chakra to a fine, sharp point. "_Cross Slash Jutsu!_"

As an X of piercing wind Shoryu's technique erupted from the two blades. As the rain of metal fell the twin arcs slammed into them, forging a convenient hole through the storm as it blew away shuriken, senbon and kunai. Aiming it ahead of him, Shoryu was able to carry on without stopping. Blades fell to the earth all around him like a flash flood, yet his path was the only one that remained safe.

When the attack passed Shoryu had ended his route through the steel, leaving behind the clutter of projectiles like a clone graveyard as he reached his top speed. _Too easy_, he told himself, though the shuriken sticking out of his hip told another story. He couldn't deflect them all; Shoryu's defence was nothing compared to Ayako's.

Closer now; Shoryu could make out the weaponry and individual hair styles of the leading Stone ninja. Most pitched back projectiles for another metallic shower, yet this time some split off from the group, running towards him as a small strike force. A dozen strong, they were designed to take him out before he reached them – if the next wave of blades didn't do it for them.

As the Stone grew more impatient their tactics grew in severity. Rather than relying on the sharp edges of their weapons, this time a small fraction of the projectiles had been augmented. They barrelled towards Shoryu at a faster rate to the others, spinning with sparks, droplets, flames, dust and zephyrs as evidence that Chunin had given them a lick of their elemental chakra.

Shadows pooled by his feet as Shoryu levelled another Cross Slash to the air. Sheer force wouldn't cut it this time – he merely diverted a few on their paths. Sheathing his swords, Shoryu cast a number of hand signs and sent forth an older technique of his.

"_Wind Style: Galeforce Jutsu!_" From the Jonin's fingers a hurricane came into being. Slowly it ripped apart the rocks by his feet, twirling in crazed rotations as its force alone made Shoryu draw swords and thrust them into the ground as an anchor. He rarely used the jutsu anymore, purely due to how rapid and unstable it had become with his chakra growth in four years.

Anything above it was sucked into the vortex and anything approaching from the side was sent flying in the opposite direction. Crouching beside it, Shroyu put himself in the ideal position to wait out the rest of the attack.

Just as before though, not everything was repelled. A palm-sized throwing star wasn't enough this time around; instead a fully formed windmill shuriken had been hurtled into his shoulder, this one damp with water-based chakra that sent the wound into unbearable agony. Chlorine in the technique was designed to sting and eventually infect it if it wasn't dealt with immediately.

As the blade protruded from his flesh rivulets still clung to the edge, trickling off the metal to make water run like a tap down his wound. Above him the storm raged on, the Galeforce Jutsu still doing its job. Shoryu pulled out the shuriken with a groan, but not before a stray senbon nailed his foot to the ground.

"_Son of a bitch!_"

In the end swearing did very little to ease the pain as the hailstorm ended. Exhausted, Shoryu sank to one knee. In front of him the small squadron neared, and with his foot still pinned to the canyon floor his options were limited. Luckily he still knew of one person who'd be happy to help. Stringing together hand signs, Shoryu palmed the floor with a grin on his face; he couldn't _wait _to see what they made of this.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

He never got to. Instead of the familiar ink pattern and puff of smoke the ground remained still – nothing happened. As he made a noise of bewilderment Shoryu remade the five seals, convinced he'd simply screwed up the jutsu. Even then he knew it made no sense; he'd committed the Summoning Jutsu to muscle memory – he hadn't gotten it wrong in years.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

Again nothing happened. _What the hell? _He asked himself. _I've got more than enough chakra so where the hell is Kyoh? What could he be doing at a time like this?_

"_Summoning Jutsu! Summoning Jutsu!_" Again and again Shoryu slapped the ground in desperation. He'd counted on Kyoh's support for this fight; had he known the dragon wouldn't show he would've saved the cocky remarks and false promises to his team. Without Kyoh he wasn't sure he could save them. "_Summoning Jutsu!_"

When nothing happened for a fifth time Shoryu found himself alerted to the presence of the enemy. The strike force was upon him, its leading Chunin starting the fight by swinging down a heavy set of knuckle-dusters. With a sudden, primal roar that frightened the men Shoryu was back on his feet. He jerked the senbon from his foot and swayed into an opening before burying it in the Stone ninja's mouth.

A metal skewer drawing blood from the back of his neck became the last those ninja saw of their captain. In a frenzy they charged at Shoryu with weapons, fists and jutsu at the ready as the commander let his instincts take over. His left hand snapped up to release the blood-soaked shuriken he pulled from his chest.

Two more followed after them as Shoryu flung a pair from his belt, making four down in the space of just two seconds. But Shoryu didn't stop there. As another three approached he drew swords and loosed a single Cross Slash Jutsu, its arcs making wounds so deep the men were almost cut in half on the spot. Some odd blast of telekinetic force shot out from the survivors, but the Jonin swerved to avoid it before diving towards them.

The two ninja had barely raised fists when Shoryu finished his forward roll by sticking swords through their guts. As he rose to full height a flourish of his shorter blade decapitated a third, and after parrying a few blows Shoryu's kick drove a fourth to the ground. It was in the midst of another killing blow when another technique struck the Jonin.

His sword was halfway through a Stone ninja's sternum, but the lad found himself avenged as a fireball met Shoryu's hip. He felt the fabric of his shirt go up in flames as his side burned hot with the ninja's attack. Again he sank to his knees, both swords clattering to the ground; he was beginning to lose consciousness.

_Not yet! Get up Shoryu! They can't be safe yet! _He told himself. It was little use; his ribs, stomach and back glowed with a single chakra-induced burn, a pain so paralysing that even the slightest twitch of muscles made him feel like screaming. Through half-lidded eyes he saw the final ninja approach. From the looks of things he was enraged by the death of his comrades. Shoryu couldn't blame him; this wasn't personal – the guy was only following orders after all.

_Move, move, move you idiot! _Shoryu thought, cursing his body. Deep breaths helped him calm himself, a technique he'd learned only the basics of from Kazuya. Using it he could theoretically block out pain, but in a real fight he'd never attempted it, and now was hardly the time to start experimenting. His eyes searched for a way out – to kill this last ninja and carry on fighting until he reached that army.

Fortunately a chance came without the enemy even realising. The last Stone ninja stood before him, casting hand signs before ending on the tiger seal and pointing it at Shoryu's face – no doubt some fire technique designed to blow his head off. Unlike the commander though, he'd failed to notice the quilt of shadows that had fallen upon them. It seemed the Hidden Stone were prepared to take Shoryu out at all costs, even if it meant taking their own men down with them.

For Shoryu this was an opportunity. Once again his hand gripped the hilt of his longest katana, and with a swift stroke the man's final seal went flying away, his hand severed from his wrists by a lick of the sword. As the ninja shrieked and clutched at his wound Shoryu grabbed him and sank to a crouch, using him as a human shield for the next rain of metal shards.

It was a cruel tactic to be sure. Shoryu almost felt sorry for the man; he screamed and screamed, shuriken pelting his body in a downpour. Slick rivers of blood flowed in a fountain to Shoryu's left and right as the shrieking finally stopped.

The boy was suddenly thankful his enemies were now human and not clone; Shoren's clones disappeared upon death – that was the only fundamental difference between them. The fact that this man was human meant Shoryu could continue using his corpse as a shield until the blades finally stopped falling.

In the wake of the attack Shoryu rose to his feet, and with a jerk tore off the dilapidated rags of his flaming shirt, exposing a bare, blood-soaked torso for the enemy to see. He found himself running again, his unresponsive limbs spurred on by the thought of Ayako and the others in danger. Through swimming vision he noticed the enemy decided to launch another dozen ninja at him.

"_Bring it!_" he cried, half mad from adrenaline.

The next events were hazy in Shoryu's memory, but from what he remembered he met the twelve-man cell screaming in mania. His swords took control, hacking apart ninja one by one without any regard for his own wellbeing. The edge of a sword bit into his thigh and a supercharged punch broke a handful of ribs, but as his desperate, demented berserk reached its strongest and loudest all twelve fell to his swords.

The pain was dulled by his fury. By the time the ninja were dead he could scarcely feel the life-threatening wounds drawing blood from his limbs. "_Is that all you've got?_" he shouted at them. The army lay just ahead; twenty yards or so – within range of his shuriken and jutsu. Unfortunately he too was close enough for an assault.

Once more the shadows at his feet told him the projectile ocean was upon him again. Three more hand signs saw another Galeforce Jutsu as his protection, but this time it wouldn't be enough. As Shoryu crouched low beside the vortex he noticed the vanguard making hand signs.

Drawing again, Shoryu found himself swarmed by a multitude of jutsu. As the twister by his side repelled the blades from the skies his swords danced to swat away those before him. Jutsu he'd never seen before rushed to him, with even his frantic swings failing to keep them all away. He batted most aside, channelling chakra to the swords he wielded to deflect fireballs and lightning bolts alike to the air.

A good number got past him though. Even when giving it everything he had the jutsu still snuck between his blades. Shoryu's exposed body was pummelled by rocks and pierced by tiny drops of water as fast and as deadly as bullets. Before he knew it a great fist of the canyon itself sprouted from the ground in front of him. He crossed swords to defend, but the impact still knocked him off his feet.

That jutsu was his death; he knew it the moment it struck. Like a discarded doll Shoryu was hurtled ten strides back and onto his rear, his swords landing by his side. This was it; he'd left the protection of his miniature tornado. Looking up he saw the last remnants of the projectile fleet descending upon him.

Too late to cast hand signs – too late for anything. The only thing Shoryu could do was cover his face with both hands and pray that he survived.

Ayako's face flashed to his mind's eye as he cowered. Kazuya's too, followed by his mother and then all the rest he'd leave in death. In his last seconds Shoryu knew he had no regrets. He'd leave this world with his dignity intact, knowing he did all he could for a better cause. True, there was still much left to do, but he left his mission in good hands.

He'd forsaken his name as a child, trained under the Twelfth Raikage, fought beside ninja and samurai of unequal courage, undertaken missions beyond his years, become a Jonin and kissed the girl of his dreams. Everything he'd done had come from his own merit; through grafting and hard work whilst at the same time shrugging off seventeen years of bad luck.

Only then did his luck begin to change.

A sound like a charging generator sounded across the canyon as Shoryu heard a plethora of louder noises; hisses and snaps blending together in quick succession like a sudden hailstorm. He sat shrunken with his hands over his face for a full five seconds until he finally decided to open them, catching the last few moments of the phenomenon.

Above him the tirade of shuriken came to a close, but the final handful – those that made straight for his body – were repelled in an instant by blue sparks bouncing off thin air. As the blades stopped Shoryu scrambled to his feet and grabbed both swords, looking around in blind confusion. Silence descended, leaving him alone to start formulating wild theories.

_Reizo? _He wondered, for his old mentor was the only one he'd seen who displayed that kind of power.

Then it hit him, a crippling pain that drove Shoryu back onto his knees before keeling over on all fours. It started below his fists; a sensation like twin needles dragging across his skin as visible lines began to etch into his hands. He found himself crying out as the pain took over. Slowly the inkless tattoo began to spread. Starting at the base of his second knuckle the scars carved themselves into a jagged pattern: the shape of a lightning bolt.

_The Raikyogan? _He realised. _Why now? After all these years?_

To his amazement the markings carried on. Hairs on his arms were singed away as tribal patterns began to form upon his forearms. Only three people living had this strain of the dojutsu, and Reizo was the only one he knew of. _Daimyo Raikyogan? _He asked himself, staring in wonder, unable to believe his luck. '_Hey you never know, maybe you'll inherit it one of these days._' Reizo's words on the day he joined Squad Thirteen came back to him.

But the markings didn't stop there. The pain worsened as the scars spread up his biceps, then collarbone, neck and chest. Then Shoryu realised it. He smiled to himself, knowing that at long last his Alpha Gene had awoken.

_At birth, the Alpha Gene attaches itself to a single aspect of combat, and then automatically bolsters it to the absolute pinnacle of what that aspect can achieve_. . . _The Alpha Gene is designed to be a failsafe – a kind of last resort. It only activates when the user is in mortal peril. _Free had told him that only last week, and now it all made sense.

The rest of the Zawa clan had all received their dojutsu between eight and ten years of age. Shoryu's had never had because it was attached to his Alpha Gene – something that didn't activate until the moment before death.

"_Of course_," he said, grinning as he rose. "It couldn't have been anything else."

* * *

Four Years Ago

"_Daimyo Raikyogan!_" Along with the markings on his hands and arm, Reizo's eyes lit up like tiny, electric blue bulbs that surged with thunderous chaos far more volatile than the regular Raikyogan dojutsu.

"Whoa! What's that? I've never even _heard _of that before!" exclaimed Shoryu.

"No, I don't suppose you would have. This is the 'Daimyo', or the 'Lord's' Raikyogan." Reizo explained. "It manifests by sheer chance in only one in fifteen members of the Zawa bloodline. It's a far more powerful variant, allowing the user to manipulate external bioelectric fields as well as the standard internal ones. The user's speed is also increased thanks to the rapidly vibrating cells within their body."

"Sweet! I didn't even know there were different forms of the Raikyogan. Are there any more?"

Reizo laughed to himself as he felt a difficult discussion incoming. "Technically there _is_ a third."

Shoryu raised an eyebrow. "Technically? What do you mean by that?"

Reizo drew the spiked baton he constantly carried and Shoryu watched in amazement as it extended into a spear of a similar length to Kazuya's double bladed sword. He swung the pole three times at enemies he'd conjured up with his mind before using the power of his advanced dojutsu to blast a concentrated bolt of lightning from his left hand.

"There's a third level called the 'Kanzen', or the 'Perfect' Raikyogan," he then said. "It was wielded by the very first member and founder of our clan just after the fall of the fifth Raikage. His children inherited it, and the power lasted the reign of the sixth before disappearing completely – the bloodline became too diluted. It hasn't been seen in over a hundred years, and probably never will again."

"Awesome! They must've been really powerful!"

"Indeed they were, or so they say. There's no one in the world alive today who actually remembers it, we only have records of its existence. Some even claim it never actually existed at all, but most members of the clan would like to think otherwise; myself included."

* * *

Shoryu watched as his vision shifted, in an out of a deep blue haze that showed the bioelectric makeup of every ninja opposing him. Thunder surged to his fingertips and sparks leapt from the ground in a circle about him. Slowly the shapes upon his body began to fill.

Starting at the bolts upon his palms, the multitude of assorted patterns suddenly brimmed over with a dark shade of electric blue. Faster and faster his eyesight began to flicker, back and forth between regular sight and the vision his cousins had seen for years now. By the time the scars on his arms were filled his eyes glimmered so quickly he thought he was about to faint.

At last his enhanced vision fixed in place as the colour covered his torso and neck. A final burst of lightning escaped the ground. The Stone ninja shrank back in fear when Shoryu's eyes became two thunderstorms compressed into glowing marbles, and as he strode towards them bolts of lightning began to surge up and down the length of his swords, his transformation complete.

"_Kanzen Raikyogan!_"

The first thing Shoryu noticed was the added sixth to his five senses. This, he knew, was an ability limited to the Kanzen only, having never heard anything about it from Reizo or his mother. Like all Raikyogan users he saw through his eyes he saw the electric makeup of each ninja before him – sensitive clusters of the nervous system to be struck for massive damage.

What he hadn't anticipated was the extra sense, one which let him detect signals on an instinctual level. Even closing his eyes, Shoryu found himself aware of every being around him – a three-hundred and sixty degree field where a mouse couldn't enter or leave without him noticing. He saw the uneasy throbs of each individual Stone ninja, the smaller pack of frightened fighters fleeing behind him and even the wildlife of the canyon. A lizard scuttled thirty yards to his right, and far behind him a snake feasted upon a poor mouse caught in the shuriken barrage.

Having a built-in sonar thrilled Shoryu. No longer would he have to worry about hidden enemies or fighting in the dark; nothing hid from the Kanzen.

The next thing he noticed – much to his delight – was the improvement on his physique. Constant shocks biting at his muscles made them permanently tensed, and with synapses firing at twice their usual speed basic motor control became a conscious effort. Lifting a hand to scratch his nose might result in him slapping himself in the face thanks to the knee-jerk quickness of every single motion.

The only thing left was to try it out.

As a small group of ninja broke off from the vanguard Shoryu rushed ahead to meet them, sending waves of energy to his calves like Reizo did to increase his speed. The result was unreal; faster than even Kazuya's twenty-five seal Jikogan, Shoryu was an electrical bullet as he ploughed forward.

But he went too far. Shoryu only meant to charge ten paces, though when his legs came to a stop he'd tripled that distance, ending up right in the heart of the enemy armada. For Kazuya the world slowed around him, allowing precise control. With the Kanzen Shoryu didn't have that luxury; everything was experienced in real time – right away its drawback was apparent.

_This might take some getting used to_, he decided, grinning as a ninja beside him leapt back in fright. _Oh well_. _Let's see what else it can do_.

Crossing his arms in an X across his chest, Shoryu channelled all the lightning he could muster from his own supply. Blue ringlets of it wreathed his arms, running from elbow to wrist as Shoryu himself became a human conductor. His arms shook under the pressure of it, but once he had it all charged Shoryu expelled it one burst.

"_Raiden Pulse!_"

Throwing out his arms made a shockwave erupt from Shoryu. In a small circle around him ninja were felled by a waist-high tide of concentrated thunder passing like a ghost through their systems, clearing the area for Shoryu to drop into stance.

The twitch of a signal behind him told Shoryu another attack was inbound. His sixth sense created the picture visibly; of three ninja at his flank reaching into pockets and following up with a throwing motion. Shoryu ducked low, and sure enough three shuriken and a windmill variant sailed over his head to impale the Stone ninja opposite.

"Idiots! We're surrounding him! Don't use shuriken!" one of them said.

Shoryu turned and fired a new attack their way. With his swords already coated with a shock of bioelectricity the Air Slash Jutsu surpassed itself, forming a crescent of propelled lightning fast as a whip with a rumbling thunderclap to accompany it. More pulsing signals got Shoryu's attention as ninja broke off from the surrounding circle to attack.

A quick spin and a flick of his arms found Shoryu facing a different direction with both swords raised, flawlessly blocking the two kunai-armed ninja before pushing them away and carving two neat strokes into their chests. Next he set off again, darting three times to the surrounding circle. When he returned to the centre only a moment had passed, though the blood of three dashing ninja stained his blades.

Casing his swords Shoryu fell once again into hand signs. He didn't need to add any extra; once his jutsu materialised he simply pushed into it a healthy dose of bioelectricity.

"_Wind Style: Kaminari Tempest Jutsu!"_

As a more powerful variant of the Galeforce Jutsu Shoryu's technique burst into being as he propelled it through the legion. Bolts surrounded the twister as it wrecked apart their formation, striking ninja at random with lightning and chargrilling any unfortunate enough to get caught in its path.

The move made Shoryu clutch at his wounds and stagger before catching his breath. Blending his own energy with the Wind Style sapped brutally at his chakra; in fact the whole Kanzen did. Its extreme nature coupled with his inexperience using it made Shoryu realise that the Kanzen Raikyogan could've easily sucked him dry without him even noticing.

_I have to finish this quickly_, he judged.

* * *

The Kage's run was a blur as he shot free of a dirt road and pressed ahead towards the lip of an outcrop. The trail ended as dry muck turned to sandy stone, so Reizo stopped to get his bearings. Deactivating his dojutsu, the Raikage surveyed the area.

Before him was the basin of a canyon, barren and featureless, ten pitches wide. At its far end he spied the Stone army he'd been searching for, but something was amiss. Arcs of his clan's blue thunder ricocheted from the crowd, with each burst sending five men flying in a sizzling heap. In the commotion one ninja zipped about – the cause of it all – with two swords gleaming in the sun as he took on the entire force alone.

At the distance his face was impossible to make out, but Reizo was no fool; two swords? It could be no one but Shoryu. The Kage's heart skipped a beat and his breath left him like a club to the stomach. The Raikyogan covered not only his student's hands, but also his arms, shoulders, chest and even his neck – markings absent in even the Daimyo strain. Without being told he knew what happened; it all made obvious sense now: Shoryu had been faced with an immediate death, and this was his body's response.

_There's no way_, Reizo told himself, doubting his own eyes as the Kanzen Raikyogan of his family's legend turned out to be not only real, but alive again in the hands of its only outcast. He laughed upon imagining his father's face if he could see this moment. This would cut Saito deeper than any sword.

Lost in Shoryu's frantic attack, Reizo was blind to the score of samurai and ninja at the foot of the slope beneath him. Only when the close sound of swords being drawn met his ears did the Raikage notice his company. Samurai heading a herd of summons pointed blades towards him, though a handful of the Leaf's ninja begged his pardon.

"Put them away or you'll get us all killed!" they pleaded of the samurai. Reizo sighed; they really didn't know him well after all – what kinds of stories were told about him in the Land of Fire?

"That's the Raikage!" one added.

But samurai refused to regard the titles of a ninja. "What do I care who he is?" asked a younger one, clearly unaware of just how elite the word 'Kage' required one to be.

"He's your leader's sensei!"

"Honestly, learn to read the symbols already." Kazuya pushed his way through the ranks to the head of the group, his teacher aghast at the state of his eye. The Taisho ignored his concern as he carried on berating the men. "I've told you a thousand times: no attacking Cloud ninja." Finally he turned his attention to Reizo. "Sensei! Shoryu's still down there. You're the only one who might be able to save him."

_Save him? _Reizo looked behind them, to the thunderstorm of a battle just across the canyon. Shoryu didn't look like he needed saving; could it be that they still hadn't noticed his new power? With a wave Reizo motioned to the battle.

Kazuya turned to see the spectacle for himself. A look of shock painted his face before he eased swiftly and grinned in amusement. "Well would you look at that. . ." he mused.

Just then Ayako burst out from the squad, paler than usual with what appeared to be tears running down her cheeks. Like Kazuya she too seemed to have vowed to not look back. If by any chance she turned to the moment when Shoryu was cut down the sight would haunt her forever; emotional scars were the burden carried by those who both survived and cared. Masking her tears, the kunoichi nearly crashed into Reizo in her state.

"Ayako, look," he ordered.

She shook her head and looked instead at the ground, refusing to speak for fear of showing weakness.

"Ayako," Reizo went on, placing his hands on her shoulders. "It's alright, you can look." Slowly he span her around as she struggled against his grip. When she finally faced the battle it still took a few seconds to muster up the courage, but once her eyes gazed the battlefield life filled them again. She stood upright again and gasped, crying replaced by joy. Shoryu was alive and stronger than ever; whatever had happened to him didn't matter.

"I'll go get him," said Reizo. "Then we can all go home."

* * *

For all the Alpha Gene's power it did nothing for his wounds. Close to two hundred had fallen before him when Shoryu noticed the sorry state his body was in. In an ideal battle he'd stop and switch out with another ninja, but stopping here would kill him; his only option left was to go all out and hope to finish them all before blood loss made him lose consciousness.

Once the adrenaline simmered the pain was worse than ever. The fireball that claimed his shirt hurt like a bee sting wide as a football, and numerous small cuts incited painful pricks every time he moved a muscle. A sheen of red coated his chest and rivulets clung to the shaking blades he held with him.

Every movement was an effort. Shrugging off the pain he'd dance between jutsu and give another great surge of bioelectricity to fuel his massacre, but doing so only left him worse in the aftermath. His tired body screamed at him to stop, and he would've gladly obeyed if not for the throb in his temples telling him when an Earth ninja was about to blindside him for a fatal blow to the back of his head – that got him moving again.

With another desperate roar Shoryu coated his entire body with the Kanzen, using its speed to slam into the human barricade and shock whoever came within five feet of his sudden rush. After that a cyclone with both swords sent arcs of lightning flying from his left and right, clearing the area to give him some room to breathe.

A giant pang in his chest doubled Shoryu over. Driving his leading sword into the rocks allowed him to stay up this time, but the show of weakness wouldn't go unnoticed by the enemy. _Just give me a minute_, he thought to himself, vision blurring before his eyes.

With his few seconds of solace Shoryu gave himself a check-up. Medical ninjutsu was well beyond him, but he'd endeavoured to at least learn the warning signs – what he could expect when his body was well and truly at its limit. All of them were present: shaking hands, a drain of colour, dizziness, a dry mouth and a slow, deliberate pulse despite the constant shocks coursing through his system.

It was only when another group of specialist ninja burst from the ranks that Shoryu leapt back into action. He readied a sword, charged thunder down the steel and prepared himself for another chakra-fuelled swing at the enemy. Like a striking cobra his arm snapped up in a single broad stroke. Tendrils of blue cracked from the blade in a gust of hissing electric snakeheads.

Blackened and burned the ninja fell before reaching him, but the audible _snap _of steel so close to his ear was something hard to miss. Stopping to look, Shoryu noticed it was his sword. The sight nearly made him shed a tear; his right-handed, leading katana was gone after the first three inches, broken into a dull shard of jagged metal. It was his twelfth birthday present, and since that day it became an extension of his right arm on the field of battle.

The loss of his weapon coupled with another volley of pain to put an end to Shoryu's fight. Without his primary weapon the battle was lost; he knew that better than any. With a great gasp and a clutch at the burn upon his hip Shoryu fell. His will and vigour were both gone; even with another sword, that had been his final attack. He watched as blue faded from the patterns on his body, savouring his last moments with a smile.

At least he'd gotten this far. Kazuya, Ayako and the others would be safe by now, and with the ranks of the Stone left in such a state he doubted this amateur group of ninja would be in any position to pursue them. As long as that truth remained Shoryu judged that he'd played his part well.

A sudden scream then sounded to his right. Shoryu dismissed it; no doubt it was a wounded ninja giving his final wail. He told himself that, but then another man cried out, then a third and fourth. What felt like a cool breeze brushed through his hair as something passed over Shoryu, followed by a heavy, pronounced footfall stomping just next to his ear.

Shoryu opened his eyes slowly, finding that now he lacked the strength to even control them. His vision was fixed; paralysed in a single frame. He saw the foot next to him and the crowd of fearful Stone ninja looking toward this new foe, but without the ability to arch his neck the newcomer's identity was a mystery to Shoryu.

Then a spear hit the ground before his eyes, burying itself a new groove in the canyon as pebbles exploded from the lightning-streaked tip. The mystery was solved in an instant; it couldn't be anyone but his sensei.

"_You see this?_" said Reizo, motioning to the pointed hat shading his features, the one that proved his status as a Kage. "You know what this is, don't you? You know who I am."

Shoryu glimpsed the nervous faces as the Stone ninja looked to one another in panic, but Reizo didn't give them a chance to consider their options as he continued his speech.

"The way I see it, there's been enough bloodshed for today. I've run a long way to get here and I'm in no mood for a fight, but if you still insist on taking Shoryu here then you'll leave me with no choice."

More gasps and heated murmurs descended over the ninja. One looked about to step from the crowd before Reizo stared him down and pointed his spear, singling him in an instant as his friends scampered away.

"Go on then, I dare you. See what happens," he said.

The man shuffled back, so intimidated by the Kage that the mere thought of challenging him was gone in an instant. From the flat of his back Shoryu's heart began to flutter again when he heard the last order of the Stone's commander; the verdict that decided whether he lived or died.

"Alright men let's retreat for now. We won't forget this Raikage!"

"Oh I expect you won't."

A failed attempt at a laugh forced Shoryu to swallow another mouthful of blood as the stampede of ninja began to move away. His sword was broken and his body in tatters, but none of it mattered anymore. He could look forward to slipping into unconsciousness and then waking up after a dreamy, painkiller-aided sleep in a safe tent – maybe with a concerned Ayako at his bedside.

_Looks like I survived after all_, he thought, smiling.

* * *

Author's Notes: And there you have it folks! Sorry this one took so long by the way, I've been moving house, had assignments, other writing projects and this chapter itself gave me real problems. Hope it was worth the wait - I've been waiting to write this since day one. I know some might say it completely goes against Shoryu's character and that's perfectly valid and all, but the idea was that Shoryu trained to be a Jonin powerhouse all by himself, so when he gets a super-powerful one of a kind ability then he's on another level. it just immediately escalates him to being in the top 20 most powerful living ninja, sort of like when Naruto gets Sage Mode.

So yeah this Kanzen Raikyogan business is a real game-changer. That flashback where he's talking to Reizo about it is actually from all the way back in chapter 6 if you can believe it. I had to do some serious research on bioelectricity as well. Shoryu's 'sixth sense' that you see is actually a real thing called 'Electroreception'; a lot of fish and eels use it to avoid predators and sharks use it to hunt food. I kinda figured that might be a useful ability for a ninja.

There's a drawing of Shoryu using the Kanzen up on my profile if anyone's interested. Figured it was the least I could do since this is the turning point of the whole series. Looks pretty badass if I do say so myself, although the crap quality of my new scanner means that it didn't come out great. His trousers are supposed to be a dark orange but for some reason that didn't get picked up when I put it through :S

So, where do we go from here? The mission is over but there's still a bunch of enemies out there waiting to screw our heroes over. Next chapter we get drama, drama and even MORE drama! Urgghh yeah this might be a bitch.

PS: Anyone else read last week's Naruto (chapter 610)? I know some translations of it read differently but Killer B's battle cry at the end of that chapter had me in stitches, I was in TEARS laughing at the 'I ain't a porn star' speech.


	35. Chapter 35 The Hardest Day

Chapter 35: The Hardest Day

Dreams of battle and death welcomed Shoryu into his restless slumber. Around him men lost will to fight as the final horde of the Senmatsu legion swept over them as an unstoppable flock of rabid beasts. The world turned to smoke and dust and decay around him, so visceral and intense that the thought of it being a nightmare never occurred to Shoryu.

No one around; both Ayako and Kazuya were nowhere to be seen – nor any familiar ninja for that matter. A friendly face might give him all the courage he needed to face it, but for now all he could do was give a half-hearted fight. Pain from his wounds flared up whenever he stretched a muscle too far. As enemies closed in around him Shoryu felt his head go numb.

He awoke into darkness sweating and disorientated, unsure yet of what had been real and what he imagined. At first he saw nothing but a pitch abyss, but after a time the silhouette of a bed appeared around him. The drapes were closed and the hum of an air conditioner clicked and rattled every now and again.

Finally Shoryu returned to the world. The burn at his hip throbbed and the shuriken scar at his shoulder made him wince as he pushed himself up. Memories of both the dream and what happened before came back to him, and after sorting them both out he found himself truly happy with the result. It felt good to be alive - there was still so much more he had to do, and with his Alpha Gene they had an early advantage still unknown to the enemy.

Then Shoryu remembered Ayako – her last confessionary act before he'd sacrificed himself. _Yeah_, he thought to himself. _Definitely glad I survived that one._

"So you're up."

Shoryu's sudden jolt made a flash of pain race up his leg as he turned to the sound of the voice. Kazuya stood by the window, staring out into eternity.

"I was expecting someone prettier!" answered Shoryu.

"Ayako went to get some sleep. She's been watching you day and night."

"Day _and _night?" Shoryu's question clued itself at once as his stomach gave a long, uncomfortable growl. He was hungrier than ever before; it must have been a while. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Two days – going on three," said Kazuya.

Lazily the Jonin swung himself out of bed, ignoring the numerous aches and itches springing up over his body. Plasters and bandages hugged at his skin where the doctor patched him up, although Shoryu was more than confident in Jinga's work. He got to work right away on tearing off all those he deemed were now unnecessary, leaving only the scorch across his side and the shuriken wound in treatment.

He grumbled as he dressed. "Figures; you lose an eye and get up straight away. I go down and I'm out cold for this long,"

"I'm a samurai. I'm more used to pushing my chakra to its limits than you are," Kazuya replied. It was the best explanation he was likely to ever get.

At this Shoryu sat up to look at him. Kazuya hadn't yet turned around, he stood staring blankly out the window, and whenever he responded it was in a dull, cold monotone – like he was only half-aware of their conversation at all. Even at his most focused Shoryu knew the two of them could still openly talk; four years together made sure no subject was off-limits, and yet Kazuya was definitely hiding something.

"What is it?" Shoryu asked.

At last Kazuya turned. The scar painted across his left eye had closed up nicely to a thin slit running vertically through his brow. To Shoryu it looked cool, but the rest of his face had seen better days – in two days he appeared to age ten years. "What do you mean?" Kazuya asked, oblivious.

"Oh come off it," snapped Shoryu, certain now, "something's the matter. Tell me."

The samurai scoffed a hollow laugh. "Not bad. You've only been awake two minutes and you're already getting on my nerves. How could you tell?"

Shoryu replied with another question. "When was the last time you ate or slept? You look like hell Kazuya. And you don't let yourself get like that; you spent the last few years always making sure you're ready for a fight. If it's really been two whole days – and you're still in that state – then something's definitely wrong."

Kazuya sighed and slumped back against the wall. He never slumped; that was Shoryu's job. With a hand covering his forehead the Taisho shielded his eye from Shoryu's as he stared at the floor. He breathed slow and heavy to calm himself, but whatever meditation method he used didn't seem to work this time. His hands began to tremble.

"The mission was a failure," he spat.

"_What?_" Shoryu found his remaining sword and fastened it to his belt, waiting for an answer. When Kazuya said nothing he pressed further, "What do you mean? If something happened with the mission I'd have you tell me."

"Is that an order?"

"No." Cautiously the ninja decided to approach him. With his eyes covered and his expression unreadable Shoryu had no clue how to act. Usually one of them would slap a palm on the other's shoulder. He'd do it now if he didn't fear it would be removed, for Kazuya's free hand hovered dangerously close to his sword.

"I'm asking as your friend. Please Kazuya," he finished.

The samurai gave another deep heave as the rhythm of his breathing returned. "It's the ninja. The ones we rescued."

Shoryu felt dread wash over him, asking a question he thought was rhetorical. "What about them?"

". . . Dead or dying. Jinga says they won't last the weekend."

As Shoryu shrank back down to the bed he allowed the full gravity of Kazuya's words to sink in. In truth he was prepared for it, but in the wake of their victory he'd forgotten all about the barbaric experimental treatment those ninja had undergone. When they found them, all fifty or so were plagued by an uncontrollable Alpha Gene – it had killed most the moment they woke.

Shoryu remembered hoping that the effects might subside with rest and medication, but that wasn't the case. At any rate the root of Kazuya's despair was now apparent. Shoryu hardly dared to ask, fearing the worst. ". . . And Fujiko?"

Kazuya shook his head. "She lives. . . For now."

"There must be some way to save her," he argued.

"Jinga says the Alpha Gene bonded itself with each of the patients. Their bodies reject it, causing incredible pain and a loss of motor control. It's fixed in place – like a Kekkei Genkai. Know any way to remove one of those?"

Shoryu felt his reason escape him. Was it really so hopeless? It had to be; if there was any chance to save her Kazuya would've taken it during these two days.

"He said their minds are gone – _irretrievable_," the samurai went on, every word of the doctor's diagnosis getting harder and harder for him to regurgitate. "The pain of the Alpha Gene coupled with the experiments they underwent was so intense that their minds shut down, retreating to some corner of consciousness. . . They're totally comatose – Jinga says he can't detect any brain function left at all; when they wake up, they only feel pain."

"And that's how most died?" Shoryu asked.

"Yeah. Some passed in their sleep. Some died from the Alpha Gene after waking up – those were the worst – explosions of fire and water and dust," explained Kazuya, fearing the same might happen for Fujiko. "Others were awake and just started screaming in pain for whole minutes, but in the end they all seized the nearest sharp object and buried it in their throats."

"That _can't be. . ._" The Jonin trailed off, crushed beneath the weight of the news. After all they'd sacrificed – after they'd put everything on the line and ventured into an unknown stronghold in full force, it all amounted to nothing. He thought back to the mission – to the warzone of those underground tunnels – when another thought struck him.

"What about that substance?" Shoryu asked. "That purple liquid they were injecting them with?"

"The contents were analysed. It just turned out to be a catalyst, keeping them unconscious and 'alive' for future tests."

Hopeful, Shoryu pointed out the obvious. "We could go back and get some more – enough to save everyone!"

"Hotaru set the place ablaze, remember? And besides, even if we did find some it wouldn't change a damn thing. That gene is still inside them, forever crippling them no matter what we do. They will never again return to themselves, only experience suffering. . . Never again will we be able to speak to them." By the time his sentence was over Kazuya's voice croaked to a higher pitch. He righted himself with a clear of his throat, but the damage was done; he'd accepted the awful truth.

Shoryu took in the news. Speechless, he shook his head and released a sigh. There were others too – ninja he'd fought beside in countless battles; they were all gone now. He felt then that he could never understand the depths of Kazuya's despair. "There are no words. . ." he managed. "To tell you how sorry I am."

"It's alright, I've had some time to deal with it. I arrived at a decision just yesterday," the Taisho explained. "If it's all the same, I'd prefer it if you came with me. I need. . . Someone."

Furiously nodding, Shoryu straightened himself up. "Of course. Anything you need."

Without a sound Kazuya turned and marched from the room, his long, determined strides making it difficult for Shoryu to keep pace. As they traversed the winding hallways the Jonin took in his surroundings.

They walked through a hospital of sorts. To both his left and right numbered white doors with each a window provided a glimpse into the horror this mission had unveiled. In every room ninja lay motionless in their beds, most waiting to die. Up to the second floor they climbed. Every now and then Shoryu would spy a family in the rooms either side; a relative or a spouse crying over the still body of a loved one.

A clock through the next lobby told him the time was eleven fifteen, and he glanced darkness outside coupled with the vague outline of a few houses. He wanted to ask where they were, finding he didn't dare distract Kazuya in his current state. At a guess he imagined they were in the Land of Lightning again – some fringe town across the border. No other village would risk providing shelter for them so openly.

At last they arrived at the right ward. Stopping first, Kazuya's hand lingered on the doorknob before he finally summoned the courage to open it.

Fujiko lay beside the window, a pure white quilt draped up to her shoulders. A machine to her left beeped in a steady rhythm to monitor her heart rate, and a tube feeding into her wrist kept her heavily sedated. She looked peaceful in sleep.

Shoryu made his way into the room, but as Kazuya shut the door behind them he waited by it, as though he wouldn't dare move any closer. Shoryu said nothing; whatever it was he had in mind, Kazuya had to do it at his own pace. He shrunk down the doorframe until he was sat, his arms hugging his knees.

"She was all for equality you know," he told Shoryu, eager to put his mind off it. "Samurai don't let women into the ranks of their warriors, but still she dedicated herself to our ways, learning our skills and upholding Bushido better than most of the men in my clan. I think she would've gotten along well with Ayako, had they spent more time together."

Shoryu agreed – that sounded about right.

"As samurai we cannot live without a conscience. It is considered. . . Wrong. . . To let the body linger in suffering when the mind has fled. In the end Fujiko wanted to die an honourable warrior's death; like her father's – like the kind I will have someday." As Kazuya stopped for a moment Shoryu realised exactly what he'd come here to do. He continued, staring down as if the plain hospital tiles might inspire him. "Who now can give her that?"

Just then the sheer horror of Kazuya's problem dawned on Shoryu. Just minutes ago he'd professed that the samurai's grief must be beyond comprehension; and now this? As her significant other it fell to Kazuya to make the final call about her death. He could betray her wishes and let her succumb to the Alpha Gene like all the others. Or he could do as she willed, and take a sword to his own beloved.

"Kazuya, you don't have to do this," said Shoryu, words spilling out of him. He wondered whether even he had the will to take Fujiko's life. Offering to do so was his only option however. The thought of it destroyed Kazuya; and seeing that, Shoryu felt he'd give anything to lighten the load.

But Kazuya refused. "No, it should be me. Whoever passes judgement should be the one to deal it."

It was an old samurai tradition; Shoryu recognised it immediately. If someone was put to death in Samurai villages it fell to the Taisho to swing the sword, as they died under his law.

Shoryu knew there was another reason as well. If anyone else put Fujiko to death, no matter how focused he remained, there was always the chance of Kazuya's rage getting the better of him. At such an emotional moment he didn't trust himself to think clearly; he was half-likely to kill whatever executioner he deigned fit for the task in his mad despair.

As his eyes wandered the room Shoryu noticed something else of particular intrigue. No doubt Kazuya had seen it already, but a sequence of deep-set scars crisscrossed up Fujiko's left arm – she'd wrote a name into her skin with some sharp object. A closer look showed the blood beneath her fingernails.

"_Kansuke_," Shoryu read aloud. "What is that?"

"She scratched it on herself, no doubt before she lost herself in the experiments," explained Kazuya. "She knew I would find her – but at the same time I think she knew she wouldn't make it out alive. Kansuke is the message she chose to give me. It's an old samurai name."

"For your son," he assumed.

Kazuya nodded.

"That's a good name. How is he?"

The Taisho looked up at last. "The nurses are giving him a few final blood tests before he's clear to leave. I only get to see him two or three times a day, but come tomorrow we should be free to go."

"I see," said Shoryu. So he was going back to his village after all. In the end there was little else he could do; with the old Taisho gone and his daughter nearing death the Village Hidden in the Glacier would take time to recover – morale was at an all-time low. Leaderless they would fall, and as the rightful heir responsibility fell to Kazuya.

The two contemplated for a time, silently were it not for the ever-present beep of Fujiko's pulse from the monitor. Wisterias flowered by the windowsill, and to pass the time Shoryu gave them a sprinkle of water with the can left at their side.

Two doctors walked past the door carrying phials, then a crying family of three followed shortly after. In the distance Shoryu even thought he heard the sound of an Alpha Gene reaction; far-off bangs and a haunting wail of agony were quickly silenced by a single, louder crash.

Eventually the new Taisho rose to his feet. He shuffled over inch by inch, like a worrisome teenager about to ask a girl on a date. When he reached Fujiko he sat on the bed and took her hand in his, leaning close as their foreheads touched. Neither Kazuya nor Shoryu – nor even Jinga – knew whether or not the patients could hear them in some way. Kazuya liked to believe so; this would be his last chance to ever talk to her. Even if she couldn't hear, there were things he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I did everything I could. The waiting – the journey – the battles. I did everything right, and still it wasn't enough. I failed you, and that alone will forever be my greatest shame."

Shoryu fought the urge to berate him – to tell him it wasn't his fault. Cutting him off might be unwise though.

"I wish, more than anything, that I could join you. But I can't right now. I still have responsibilities: the village; this war; Kansuke. To turn away from them would be cowardly, I know, but part of me is tempted. Staying strong is proving difficult without you. . . But at the very least, I can muster up the strength enough to carry out your will."

Then Kazuya leaned in closer to whisper three short, inaudible words in her ear. Shoryu didn't have to ask what they were. When the Taisho was done he kissed her forehead and took his position.

His breathing hitched in random intervals, hands shaking as his eye glazed over. He sniffed and cleared his throat again, doing whatever he could to appear in control as his whole body shuddered against his command. As Kazuya's hands moved to the strap of his sword his fingers fumbled twice on the knot of string keeping it covered. On his third attempt the leather case slipped off, unsheathing a single edge of his clan's sword.

The Taisho held the blade over Fujiko's sternum. One swift movement and it would all be over – instant and painless if he got it right. Yet Kazuya's hands stayed in place. Listening closely Shoryu heard the rattle of steel as they quivered furiously. His first instinct was to look away, but conscience kept his gaze fixed. However hard this was to watch, it was nothing compared to Kazuya's task.

"I'll see you again soon, I promise you that," he whispered.

Looking now Shoryu saw a different side of his friend – one he'd never seen even in their most desperate hours. He bit down hard on his lower lip, taking sharp inhales through his nose as he tried to fight against his own will. There Shoryu saw not a samurai, a comrade or a great leader, but something stripped of all that – Kazuya's true nature. Here stood a boy of just seventeen, unable to cope with the grim fate life had thrown his way.

Tearing himself from her, Kazuya threw an arm across Shoryu's shoulder, collapsing on it like a crutch.

"I can't do it," he confessed. "I can't – I just-"

Shoryu gave a nod. "It's alright. No one's forcing you to do anything."

The Taisho looked to understand for a few moments. His eye found the floor once more as he trembled, turning it over again and again in his head. Whatever rationale he applied didn't work though; no matter how he looked at it there was no escaping this.

"No." He turned away, levelling the sword a second time. "I have to do this. I owe it to her – I could never forgive myself otherwise."

_You'll never forgive yourself for this anyway_, was Shoryu's first thought. However necessary this was, the moment would haunt Kazuya's nightmares for the rest of his life.

An instant later and it was done. The Taisho's blade plunged through cloth and flesh to pierce the heart of his beloved in a brief eruption of blood. She bucked forward for a moment, her eyes opening as Kazuya cradled her head against his chest in silence.

The once predictable tone of the nearby machine changed suddenly. Three short beeps were followed quickly by a longer one, drawn out to echo around the room as Fujiko's pulse disappeared. Moving slowly, Shoryu made his way over and flipped it off; the sound would only annoy Kazuya now.

As he turned back around the weight of the samurai nearly knocked Shoryu off his feet. Kazuya careered headlong into his chest, his shaking hands covered in blood clinging to Shoryu like he was his last foothold from falling to oblivion. Muffled sounds and heavy pants against him told Shoryu he was crying, and again he saw the young boy, ill-equipped for the enormous burden.

And then Shoryu's sympathy was replaced by anger. Not a single opponent – not in four years of surviving countless battles and life-threatening wounds – had ever brought out the tears of this samurai. It betrayed his entire persona; someone so stern and proud reduced to a miserable crying shell of his true glory. _No one does this to Kazuya_, thought Shoryu to himself, his fists balling up.

"We'll get them, you hear?" He muttered. "Whatever it takes, I swear to you we'll make sure someone answers for this." It was the only consolation he had. No amount of killing would bring Fujiko back to him, but once he recovered, bringing the scum who'd taken her away to justice would be the only penance the Taisho could get. As Kazuya cried harder in his embrace Shoryu could only hope his promises were not empty. Teijo; Shoren; Masaru; the Senmatsu would pay dearly for this.

* * *

Out in the open Shoryu felt sick. Fresh air hit him for the first time in days, and after what he'd just experienced nothing could be more nauseating. Kazuya wanted to be alone, so Shoryu assured him that no one would disturb him unless absolutely necessary, ordering his men to do the same.

It was dark outside, but even after midnight the market stalls still bustled with the activity of the dying weekend. After getting something to eat (a chicken sauté and some noodles) and talking to the locals, Shoryu discovered he was in Karathane, a small town just north of the Land of Lightning's border. Never before had he passed through here, but the residual snow hugging only the shadows told him they were close to Kazuya's village – a day's march at most.

Once he'd seen enough Shoryu found himself a quiet spot on a hill overlooking the town. Like Kazuya he preferred some solitude in this situation. There was much to think about. Now that he was recovered they could set off tomorrow – back to the Cloud. Kazuya would go his own way and Shoryu would have to deliver a mission debriefing to Reizo – if he was still here.

Out with only his thoughts Shoryu withdrew his flute and began to play. So much lately had prevented him from using it, but as the clear notes rose higher and louder he found himself content. With everything happening at once it felt good to relax – to blow the troubles of the world away with a cheery melody.

As he continued to play Shoryu noticed the grooves on his hands – twin lightning bolts etched into his skin just deep enough to trace a finger down, the same marks that covered his entire upper body. In the chaos he woke to he'd forgotten about the battle completely, finding now that his mind wandered back to the events that transpired that day. _Wouldn't hurt to try it_, he figured. Shoryu stopped his playing and rose to his feet.

"_Kanzen Raikyogan_."

With such an open view of the town the sight that met him was one of splendour. As the world shifted to a blue haze he saw the life-force of every individual living there, lit up like a thousand tiny fireflies in white. With the Raikyogan his sight pierced rock, roof and wood. Out to the south he saw the encampments of the ninja and samurai at the outskirts, gathered around fires swapping food, banter and cards. Most of the lamplights he saw were horizontal – civilians abed in their homes, with no idea their privacy had been compromised.

Feeling guilty, Shoryu disabled the jutsu and sat back down. Again he thought back to the battle, the events replaying themselves to him. His memory strolled back to before the Alpha Gene activated, and again Shoryu found himself stumped by another question left unanswered. What happened to Kyoh? Why hadn't the dragon showed up? Determined to find out, Shoryu leapt back to his feet went through the hand signs.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

Just as always the dragon appeared in a puff of smoke. Up here in the countryside no one would notice his arrival; Shoryu and he could talk all they wanted. With his mood still sour the Jonin wasted no time with a greeting.

"Where were you?" he demanded.

The dragon bowed his head, ashamed and apologetic. "Shoryu I-"

"-You always talk about how you love fighting. All those battles we went through together – and you _bail _on me when I need you the most? You had better have a good excuse for leaving me to die!" As he patronised the poor creature Shoryu realised he was probably taking out his anger on the wrong person, but the day had left him too weary to care.

"I can explain it to you, if you'll give me a minute," said the dragon.

"Oh please – be my guest. I'm going to _love _this."

"I was summoned by another," he insisted.

"Don't lie to me," reasoned Shoryu – the excuse was so transparent it pissed him off more. "There's no one else alive who can summon you! Who called you if not me?"

"I was sworn to secrecy; I can't divulge their identity."

The ninja threw up his hands. "Well that's very convenient for you!"

"I'm telling you the truth."

"You know, I don't mind you taking a day off! But next time could you at least let me know first?"

"_Knock it off Shoryu_," called a voice from the darkness.

Shoryu jumped in fright as he realised they were far from alone. He prepared himself to activate the Raikyogan again to flush out their intruder, but a silhouette began to form from the trees; whoever it was, they didn't intend to hide themselves for long.

"It's not his fault," said the figure. "It was me who summoned him."

"Stop! Show yourself." Shoryu drew his one remaining blade and stood poised for an attack. A torch in the stranger's right hand lit up the grass around him, though a hood thrown over his head concealed his identity. People who bore no ill will had no reason to hide their face. Shoryu decided he'd attack if the man got too close.

"You are Shoryu Aizawa, right?" Taking further strides, the man put his hands in his pockets and walked right up to the dragon, ignoring the boy's demand.

"I said show yourself. Hands where I can see them; take one more step and I fire." Shoryu looked to Kyoh for support, finding only a bashful look of apology on the dragon. Angering Shoryu most was that the man appeared deaf to his threats; the stranger continued all the same, resuming his line of inquiry.

"Of course you're Shoryu Aizawa. Bit of a stupid question really – I can tell just by looking at you."

The Jonin's patience reached its limits in a whirl of folded steel. His left hand, hovering behind his back, suddenly flipped out in a quick-draw of his windmill shuriken. Having practiced it to perfection Shoryu watched as the eight-inch throwing star raced in a straight line towards the throat of his attacker.

A cluster of sparks lit up the hills in a flash. It took Shoryu seconds to realise what happened, with his own shuriken spinning to a halt just three feet away. Looking at the stranger it was easy to see; he'd thrown his own projectile in defence, and as the two collided they bounced back to the feet of their owners.

Shoryu narrowed his eyes, wary of the man. A regular shuriken would've been swatted aside by his heavier one, but just like Shoryu the man wielded the larger windmill variant. Just who was he? Was he about to attack? And if his words were true, then how had he managed to summon Kyoh? Shoryu kept his sword and eyes trained at all times on the mysterious newcomer.

"Who are you?" he asked at last. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage."

"Were you followed here at all? Does anyone else know where you are?"

Shoryu didn't know whether to answer. On the one hand the stranger could simply be a paranoid, undercover ninja demanding privacy. On the other hand he could be an assassin, making sure there were no witnesses around to catch him in the act. They _were _alone – no one else was out here. Eventually Shoryu decided to comply; if the stranger turned out to be a hitman he'd just have to fight.

"We're alone – though I kinda wish we weren't," confirmed Shoryu.

"I've a feeling you might take that back soon enough." With that as his only declaration the stranger threw off his hood, letting the orange glow of his torchlight play across his features.

He was a man in his thirties, with windswept hair of a chocolate brown; sideburns and neat goatee to match it. His eyes shone a youthful green like the shores of some tropical sands, and as he beamed a genuine smile Shoryu found himself looking into his own future. A white headband of the Cloud was strapped across his forehead and a sword hung by his belt. It could be no one else.

Shoryu had seen the man before; growing up he'd looked at photographs of him as a younger man, heard stories of all he'd accomplished as a ninja and been told day after day just how much the two of them looked alike. He only saw the true extent of the resemblance now – their accents, mannerisms and expressions were all the same. After seventeen years he was back.

". . . _Dad?_" Shoryu managed to breathe. No – it couldn't be. Shoichi Senmatsu was long dead. He redoubled his grip on the shortsword and pointed it to the imposter. "If this is some Transformation Jutsu then-"

"It's not a Transformation Jutsu Shoryu," said Shoichi.

_That's right_, he admitted – that wouldn't make sense. _He summoned Kyoh. That means he's the real thing._ Logic took over as Shoryu shook his head and tried again. "But you're supposed to be dead!" he complained.

Shoichi clutched his heart as though he'd just been dealt a mortal blow, gasping in shock. "Don't sound too disappointed!"

Poorly timed attempts at humour; Shoryu recognised those all too well, but he wouldn't bite this time. As Shoichi took another step closer his son waved the sword like a warning light. "Even if you _are _my father you've still got some explaining to do! How come you're here? You mean to tell me you've been alive all this time? You left my mother all alone!"

"You know our enemy – you've seen what Teijo and the others are like. I pretended to be dead to keep you and your mother safe. Make no mistake, it wasn't a decision I took lightly, but if my brother knew of my family he'd kill you both for the fun of it."

Listening to his story Shoryu knew it made perfect sense; the Senmatsu were ruthless and indiscriminate when it came to revenge. Even so, something inside him couldn't accept what Shoichi told him. For seventeen years he'd been robbed of a father, and poor Yuuko had lost her husband so young, left to raise an outcast by herself. It wasn't fair.

At last Shoryu sheathed his sword. Satisfied, Shoichi made right for him, hugging his son for the first time. Shoryu expected a sword through his belly at any second. None came and their embrace parted. The man took to gazing at him with a look of wonder, his eyes almost twinkling.

"Just look what you've grown into: a Jonin and a war hero. You've made me the proudest man on this earth, Shoryu. I only wish I could've been here sooner." He was nearing tears now as Shoryu gave a groan and flushed in embarrassment. Shoichi's look then turned to astonishment - something caught his eye. "And would you look at that!"

Faster than he could follow Shoichi snatched something from his son's pocket, turning and holding it to inspect. He waved it above his head out of Shoryu's reach – a thirty five year old man acting like a child. As the light passed over it Shoryu realised what it was.

"Hey that's my flute!" he argued.

"I think you'll find it's _my _flute!"

Grumbling, Shoryu accepted defeat and gave his father time to reunite with it – just as long as he didn't plan on keeping it. Shoichi looked at it like an old friend, his fingers drumming rapidly over the dentures as he grinned to himself.

"I lost this years ago! I _knew _I left it in my jacket pocket!"

Shoryu fought the urge to confess he had the jacket too. The last he saw of it, it was being used as a bandage to wrap up Kazuya's extensive wounds, the blue fabric turning red. Surely it must've been washed now, but would the stains come out? He didn't want to mention it just in case.

Shoichi played the flute with such mastery. Shoryu had no idea the simple instrument could produce such a beautiful sound – like a choir of hummingbirds chirping a morning song. Shoichi fingered out his incredible symphony only for a matter of seconds; that was all he needed to display his skill with it. Hearing that, Shoryu immediately strived to be as good one day.

"Michio gave me this long ago. He heard the melodies of the Village Hidden in the Glacier and knew right away I'd want one," said Shoichi.

"_Michio_. . ." Shoryu remembered the name. "Kazuya's father. You two were cousins right?"

The older ninja nodded. "I heard rumours that you knew his son, but I never got around to confirming them."

"We were in the same cell out of the academy – I've known him ever since."

"Well now that _is _an odd coincidence. I suppose the universe just has a way of putting these things in order. I take it you already know that you share a family?"

"Yeah," Shoryu admitted. "It was a shock for both of us."

"No doubt. It's funny how these things work out. His father and I were inseparable at the best of times. We were the only ones to rebel against the twisted doctrines Shoren and Masaru laid out for us. All our siblings succumbed to their will, Teijo most of all."

"Michio – is he still alive?" asked Shoryu, vaguely hopeful. If his father survived the wrath of the Senmatsu family then maybe Kazuya's did too.

Unfortunately the case was not so. Shoichi sighed. "No. He's dead – I saw it with my own eyes." On his face was a look of regret – of an old memory he wished to forget. Shoryu decided to pursue it later, as right now he had a more urgent question to ask him.

"So. . ." he began. The elephant in the room bared its tusks. Shoryu found he couldn't let himself enjoy another moment without some answers. "Mother has no clue you're still alive. One minute you were there and the next you were gone. Something happened – what changed to make you leave? And how come you're back? Why now of all times?"

Shoichi sank down beside a tree and buried his torch in the earth. He said, "Eager to know everything, aren't you? You get that from me."

"You said it yourself – our enemy will stop at nothing. I've seen Senmatsu deception and brutality sink to levels I can barely call human, and you're one of them. I need the truth – about everything. I want to believe you're my ally, but to do that you're going to have to help me understand just who it is you are."

"I suppose that's fair enough," Shoichi admitted, indulging his son in his tale. "Well where do I begin? My father and I were never exactly best buddies in my childhood. Michio and I used our abilities to escape Magnus Sanctum once we were old enough – quite straightforward to be honest; the tricky part is finding it again."

"Magnus Sanctum?" Shoryu asked. The word was new to him.

"The Senmatsu Island. Anyway a few years later came the missing chapter – the part no one knows about save for me and _them_. It happened seventeen years ago, just before you were born. . ."

* * *

Author's Notes: Hey guys! Alright so this chapter came in two major halves really.

That first part was without a doubt the most emotionally trying piece I've ever written, I literally had to take breaks between paragraphs to get my shit together. I knew the entire time that I could easily just rewrite it and make Fujiko survive, but I always wanted sacrifice to be a major theme in Legacies – victory doesn't come without cost when the stakes are this high. Plus it acts as a serious motivator for Kazuya. His character is pretty much set now because let's face it: no other event in the story could possibly impact him as much as this mission did.

The second part confirms something many of you suspected for a while. Shoryu's father Shoichi is alive and well. I originally planned for him to be a kind of mentor figure but Reizo is already in there for that. Instead I settled on making him act like just an older Shoryu; I thought it was more fitting considering how Yuuko always goes on about how similar they are.

As some of you might have guessed from that closing line we get a flashback chapter next time. Yes, that's right, after thirty-five chapters of a Naruto fanfic we finally arrive at our _first ever flashback chapter_. It's a miracle when you think about it! So yeah, look forward to learning more about Shoichi next time.


	36. Chapter 36 A Fated Reunion

Chapter 36: A Fated Reunion

Seventeen Years Ago

With a flint in one hand and a stone in the other Shoichi struck furiously at his gathered tinder. Enough meat for two rested raw by his feet, but without a fire it might as well be useless. Shoichi found himself alone in the close confines of a rocky mountain pass, a crevice in which they could be hidden from the eyes of any onlookers. Pigeons and gulls cooed upon the razor sharp peaks around him.

From the outside the stony cluster of land was as drab and dead as the Tenth Raikage. There was no reason for anyone to be here; it wasn't a shortcut to anywhere nor was it an ideal spot to take in the scenery. In short, this was the perfect meeting place for a pair of runaway ninja.

Shoichi wondered then whether his cousin would even find this place amongst all the other barren bluffs the Land of Lightning had to offer. Only an unassuming, easy to miss deposit of white chalk distinguished it from all the others. He was running late now. The ninja gave another glance to his watch and decided he'd leave if he wasn't here in the next half an hour. If something had gone wrong then lingering was hardly a good idea.

"Shoichi!"

The Jonin's fears were put to rest as Michio strolled into the clearing. His gaunt chin and stern frown lines always looked odd when married to his happy expression, but it was the matted blizzard of white hair that set him apart from the other ninja Shoichi knew. A combat jacket hugged tight to his chest and the mark of the Hidden Mist was engraved in steel across his forehead.

"Hey!" Shoichi rose, and as the two got closer he clasped the hand of his cousin and pulled him into a fierce embrace. "Been a while!"

"Too long," Michio agreed. As they parted he added, "How's the hand?"

Shoichi held up his preferred right hand, one that he'd broken badly after a B-Rank mission involving some Hidden Sand rogue. The bandages came off just a week ago; he flexed to test it out. "Still aches a bit, but aside from that it's good as new," he explained. "So, how's the weather over at the Glacier?"

"Sunny as usual."

Shoichi breathed a sigh of relief. Good – it was really him. Espionage was the oldest tactic of the Senmatsu; sometimes it took a while to see past the obvious spy posing as an ally. By now he knew not to go blabbing off information before confirming one's identity.

As the Cloud ninja returned to his kindling Michio crouched to aid him, and with the two of them striking in unison a fire was made even in the cold, wet atmosphere they found this far north. With a warm hearth the food could be prepared. Months of survival in the wild ensured both Shoichi and Michio knew the ins and outs of enduring outdoors. Pork sausages and bacon rashes made their camping session all the more enjoyable.

As the two made themselves comfortable atop opposing rocks Michio dropped the news he'd been saving.

"Rin is pregnant. Has been for a while actually."

In a volcanic eruption of mulch and spit Shoichi's kebab found itself splattered across the floor. His mouth hung open as his eyes formed full moons in his surprise.

"No way!" he exclaimed, maw still full. "That's incredible! Look at my favourite cousin all grown up! Real happy for you bro."

Michio flushed red with embarrassment. "Thanks – you can be the godfather if you want?"

"That would be awesome!"

The ninja laughed to himself. "So how far gone is Yuuko by now? Must be getting close, right?" he asked, eager not to talk too much about himself.

Pressing his thumb and forefinger to his chin, Shoichi let his eyes wander upward. "I think. . . Six months? Yeah, six months by now. Sooo excited – I get to be a dad! You know Yuuko already came up with a name for it?"

"Oh yeah?" Michio leaned forward.

"Yeah. 'Shoryu'." The Jonin traced a line across the sky as he said the name, imagining how it would look on paper. "It means 'Soaring Dragon'. Works for a boy or a girl. Kinda fitting right?"

"If they turn out like you."

"Good point. I didn't exactly turn out like my old man did I?" Shoichi rocked back on his seat and tore another hunk out of his meal. Shaking his head he grinned to himself, still in awe about the news. "I can't believe you're getting this serious! So this is what you called me here for? I'm impressed buddy. You've gotta let me come see him sometime."

"Well. . ." Michio trailed off, chewing his fingernails as he looked glumly to the floor. "That's not _exactly _why I called you here. . ."

"Hm?" Shoichi's head tilted.

"The thing is. . ." A groan escaped the Hidden Mist ninja as he buried his hair in his hands. "I've been compromised. Guess I won't even get to see my child born." He slanted his mouth, adding, "and we were supposed to be married next month."

Shoichi set down his food and paid attention. Five years ago the two of them stole from the fortress in the dead of night and fought their way through clones to freedom. Shoren's fishing boat on the eastern coast helped them escape Magnus Sanctum, the moving island the Senmatsu called home. Since then Shoichi knew his family must've been searching high and low for the two of them – as wielders of both the Alpha Gene and Jikogan they were invaluable assets to whatever wretched scheme they had planned for the world. They separated, deciding they would be harder to find if they worked alone; Shoichi went to the Hidden Cloud and Michio to the Mist, eventually resigning from the position to spend more time with his high-born girlfriend from the Glacier.

"I suppose it was only a matter of time," said Shoichi at last. "What will you do?"

"Leave. We swore to do just that if ever we were found out. I can't involve Rin or my child in this."

"My brother would kill them," added Shoichi. He knew Teijo only too well. "Is it safe right now?"

Michio shrugged. "Define safe. Packs of clones patrol the Glacier's borders day and night, and they grow bolder by the day. I don't know who sold me out but they know I'm close by. Soon enough they'll come down to investigate. I won't last long in a village that already distrusts ninja – a samurai will sell me out before long. They don't want the trouble of harbouring a fugitive shinobi."

"I take it Shoren and Masaru aren't leading the scouts?"

"No." Shaking his head, Michio looked to the ground. "Worse – Teijo is out there. I saw him the other day when I decided to look around. If he so much as catches a whiff of me-"

"-He's like a bloodhound. Once he has your trail he'll follow it to the ends of the earth. You need to shake him off. Shoren made a smart choice sending _him _after you."

For all his faults Shoichi couldn't deny how cunning his father could be. Not only was Teijo their most ruthless, twisted ninja, but his fighting style was also a natural bane to poor Michio's. With the Jikogan in his possession Michio was the fastest, most skilled user of Taijutsu that Shoichi ever knew, but it all meant nothing against Teijo – the man who could enslave a mind with only the slightest touch. Kicks and punches – Michio's primary line of attack – would only lose him the fight.

"I'll have to disappear for a while; hopefully it's only temporary. I'll return once I'm sure he's off my back." Michio decided.

"I'll keep a lookout for you. Knowing Teijo he'll keep some clones nearby to watch the area in case you come back. Send me your location and I'll let you know when it's safe," said Shoichi. It was the least he could do; sending a scout down to the Glacier every month or so was hardly a massive sacrifice.

"Thanks. I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it." Shoichi gave a wave of his hand. "Anyway let's forget about your vanishing act for now – it's making me depressed. How've you been since I last saw you? It's been nearly half a year."

"Good. Yeah, I've been good," said Michio. "Got ourselves a nice little cottage on the outskirts of the village. We have to work the fields sometimes but it's not exactly hard work for guys like you or me. Mostly though we just get to do as we please. I'm stronger and fitter than ever before."

"Ehhh. . ." Shoichi made a face and shrugged his shoulders. He didn't see the appeal. "What do you even _do _in the bowl of a glacier all day?"

Michio counted off his hands. "Climbing, training, fishing, Shogi, meditation-"

"_-Fishing?_" Shoichi arched an eyebrow. "Somehow I can't imagine you fishing."

"The quiet life does funny things to you. . . What have you been up to then?"

As he picked up a bowl the Cloud Jonin filled in his cousin. "Saving up mostly. Yuuko and I are pretty broke after buying that house together. I've had to keep missions to a minimal though."

"How come?"

"Got one of my own to carry out. I've been spying on Kira Asakura – you know the tenth Raikage?"

Michio's palm met his forehead with a slap. "You've been _spying _on your own Kage? You _do _know that's likely to get you killed or exiled right?"

"I keep well hidden. And it's necessary at any rate; I think he's under my Teijo's control. It just happened a few weeks ago, people started muttering changes about him. One minute he was talking about stepping down and the next he renews his term for another five years; started making all these weird policies up. I've avoided speaking to him just in case."

"You're walking on eggshells here Shoichi. Just be careful you don't blow it."

"He rarely comes out of his office these days anyway, the guy's like eighty. It's not like he speaks directly to every ninja in the Cloud, much less rookies like me who only just got promoted."

"Even so, watch your back," Michio warned him. "It might only take him one look across a crowded room to find you."

Shoichi agreed, and as the conversation reached a more casual tone the two dug into their meals, reminiscing about old times good and bad. In all twenty years of his life Shoichi knew no one who he could be at ease with Michio. He'd told him time and time again that he was more a brother than either of his wretched siblings, and with the darling Madoka as his only sister he figured it was a safe bet Michio felt the same.

Once the flames reached their highest and hottest Shoichi withdrew his new favourite flute and began to play. In truth he still preferred the melancholic, bass-laden drones of his bamboo shakuhachi, but the tune of the lighter model Michio gave to him still struck a chord with Shoichi. The notes were higher and happier – playing it made him suddenly full of optimism. Since receiving it the last time they met Shoichi practiced and practiced until his fingers were blistered, but the sound it produced was well worth the pain.

For over half an hour the crags of the gorge were made cheerful by the melody of the flute and the dancing orange embers of the fire. Afterwards the two ninja sparred for a time, trading new techniques and correcting the other when a mistake cropped up.

Beating Michio up close was a trial even without his Jikogan – with it he was unstoppable. At every turn of the fight Shoichi had to come up with new ways to extend the distance between them and loose a blunted shuriken. The close confines of the rock walls made using his Alpha Gene impossible, but the challenge was a welcome adjustment. Somewhere inside Shoichi wanted to prove to himself that he could still fight with his own skills; he didn't want to rely solely on the inherited, unnatural genotype of his family.

Midday passed in a blur; before long the sun began to set over the Land of Lightning as Shoichi and Michio sat recovering at opposite ends of the fire. The flames descended into tiny forks; mostly ash and charred twigs nestled at the steaming basin.

Checking his watch, Shoichi wondered whether he should go out and get more sticks for the fire. He decided it was late enough already; there was no sense collecting wood when they'd only be here another half hour. He had to get home. If he set off before eight he reckoned he could make the Cloud by the following afternoon. Yuuko would be worried by now that he hadn't returned from his mission.

One day Shoichi vowed to tell her everything – about himself, his family and his life up until now. Once Teijo was dead the Cloud would be completely risk-free. For now, the less she knew the safer it was for her.

"Taking a leak, be right back."

"Huh?" Shoichi snapped from daydreaming to glance around the camp. "Oh, sure thing."

The fire crackled as Michio snuck down the winding path he'd crossed to get here, leaving his cousin free to go back to his thoughts. A minute passed before he returned.

Michio shuffled back into the clearing as white as his hair. With a blink his eyes flashed into spirals. He clenched his fists and gave a wary look over his shoulder. "Uhh, Shoichi," he started.

In an instant Shoichi leapt to his feet and drew his sword. The look on his cousin's face told him danger had found them.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Well. . . Just outside that little alley. . . Yeah, there's a squadron of clones waiting for us," Michio revealed.

"Did they see you?"

"I don't think so." Again the ninja looked behind him. "No. But there's no other way out of here – if we try to go over the rocks they'll spot us. What do we do?"

"Calm down," said Shoichi. In tense situations the awkward Michio had a tendency to lose his head. "Tell me everything you can about them."

Michio scratched his head as he tried to recount the details. "Well, I think there's ten altogether – a few projectile users and some unarmed. I saw radios too – short wave ones – Teijo must be nearby. . . _Shit! _I made sure I wasn't followed!" he cursed.

"They probably tracked you here. Shoren has clones specialised for everything. There's no helping it now – you were going to leave the Glacier anyway, I guess this just means you'll have to push ahead your schedule. You should go tonight; leave everything behind and don't look back until you're sure nothing's in your shadow."

"But I didn't want to get _you_ involved in this!"

"If we can take these guys out quick enough they won't have a chance to use their radios. I can slip away unnoticed," Shoichi assured him. In truth he didn't like their chances, but calming Michio down was more important now.

"We might not get that opportunity. I'm sorry Shoichi – I really thought we were safe here."

"Don't apologise for my brother's persistence. And we'll just have to _create _an opportunity, that's all," he suggested.

"Any ideas? This stuff is your area right?"

Shoichi laughed. For all his fighting prowess Michio wasn't exactly the 'battle planning' type. His cousin's greatest schemes normally involved charging the enemy head-on with no regard for his own safety. Fortunately an idea _did _occur to him.

"I might have a plan. Give me a second." In his head Shoichi did a quick calculation of all their jutsu, the tools at their disposal, the amount of enemies, the chance of clone reinforcements and every possible escape route. As Michio panicked beside him Shoichi's eyes went up as he bobbed his head up and down, muttering nonsense under his breath. "Alright, I definitely have a plan," he concluded.

"Care to tell me?"

"Watch and learn little bro, watch and learn." Shoichi drew his sword back into its scabbard, and after a deep breath he formed a cross before him with the first two fingers of both hands. The seal did not belong to the standard twelve animal signs, nor did it resemble the twisted, outright painful-looking seals of the Jikogan. On the contrary, the simple cross looked easy enough for a child to pull off, and would be if it weren't for the immense amount of chakra required to use it.

"_Shadow Clone Jutsu!_"

* * *

The clone captain kicked over a stone in boredom, fidgeting eagerly with the shuriken strapped to his thigh. Bald, tattooed and muscular, he distinguished himself from the others by being the toughest looking clone in the group, his age making him the leader by default. Half an hour they'd spent here, having tracked a set of footprints all the way from the Glacier. He decided that entering the narrow confines of the rock face was too risky with so many men; their numbers would mean nothing if their target managed to bottleneck them.

Said target was Michio Senmatsu, the escaped fugitive of Magnus Sanctum. At the will of their masters the clones had been instructed to be on the lookout for a young man with white hair – no other target was specified. Just a week ago they received a tipoff that Michio was hiding in this area, but for all their scouting and patrolling they had yet to find any evidence.

Waiting here was a chore for the soldiers. For all they knew, those footprints could've belonged to a common samurai sneaking out of the village for a secret love affair, or a serving girl who'd strayed too far from home collecting berries. But waiting was their only option – wait until that white-haired bastard emerged or until this whole thing turned out to be just another wild goose chase.

The scraping of steel then claimed the squadron as clones drew knives one after the other.

Turning back to the rocks, the captain saw the source of their worry. A man had emerged – a ninja from the Cloud judging by the mark upon his forehead. This was a problem; a samurai or a peasant would be easy to dismiss, but another ninja? The coincidence was too great; they _had _to be in league.

Whether the man was a consort for Michio or not, it didn't change the fact that he gasped like a little girl upon seeing them and dropped his basket of apples.

"God _damn it! _You guys scared me half to death! You know how long it took to clean these? And look at them now." Shoichi dropped to his knees and bundled them in his arms before inspecting one. Pouting, he brushed dirt off it like a fussy cook. "Nope, that's it – they're _ruined_. How am I supposed to explain this to my wife?"

"Get on the ground weirdo!" barked the commander. "Stay where I can see you."

"Eh?" Shoichi got back to his feet. He turned aghast when he saw the plethora of blades and hand-signs pointed in his direction. Convincing them he was an idiot was the fastest way to catch them off guard.

"You heard me! On the ground! And throw away your weapon!"

Shoichi looked over both shoulders and looked back with a look of confusion, furrowing his brow as he pointed to himself in disbelief, mouthing '_me?_' with a flutter of his lips.

"Yes _YOU__!_ Are you deaf? Lose the sword or we blow you away!"

"Alright, alright, alright." After opening up his hands to show nothing was in them Shoichi slowly made for the strap that held his katana in place. He saw the clones jump in their sandals a little when he released it with a snap of his fingers, but fortunately no one fired. Good; he could continue his little charade.

"Alright now on the ground," ordered the captain.

"Are you guys bandits or something?" Shoichi snapped back.

"_On the ground_."

The ninja smiled; if they hadn't fired by now they never would. Now he could turn the tables. "You know, I don't think I will," he said. "Give me one reason why I should."

"I'll give you ten reasons ninja - they're all looking at you. Do as we say or you die, it's that simple"

"Haha!" Rocking back, Shoichi laughed and held his belly, enjoying the threat far more than he should. "That's a good one! But you see. . . We _are_ in the Land of Lightning are we not?" The ninja took his first step towards them.

"What of it?" asked the clone.

"You see this headband don't you?" A jerk of Shoichi's thumb motioned to the symbol of the Cloud. He took his second step. "Any of you care to tell me what this means?"

"You're a ninja, and as it just so happens we were looking for a rogue ninja – a dangerous criminal in fact. Michio Senmatsu is his name, though I imagine he's using an alias."

At the mention of his cousin Shoichi's face gave nothing away. He continued towards them, one step at a time. "That's funny, because any _criminals _in the Land of Lightning are dealt with by the shinobi of the Hidden Cloud – people like me. Get it? This whole area is under _our _jurisdiction, not yours. So if I see this 'Michio' fellow for you, I'll bring you his head. That way we can all sleep better at night, you can apologise to me for this whole affair, and who knows? Maybe I'll even forgive you for spoiling the apple pie I was so very looking forward to."

"You hear that boys?" The captain turned to his men as guffaws went from clone to clone, and the distraction let Shoichi inch three steps closer. "The unarmed man threatens _us_!"

Laughter spread around the group like wildfire, so infectious that the Cloud Jonin decided to join in. With a mocking face he chuckled at their expense until his breath ran out.

"No no no, that wasn't a threat," he said at last. "I merely just stated a fact! Here's a threat for you: lay down your arms, turn around and keep walking in the other direction before I kill you for laughing in my face."

The captain didn't like that at all. Redoubling his grip on his kunai, he cajoled, "Think you're pretty smart don't you? We'll see how silver that tongue of yours is when we cut it out for you."

"Oh no, I'm not all that smart," said Shoichi.

"Clearly."

"It's all relative - you're just morons."

"Kiss my ass shinobi. On the ground – _now_. And did I say you could come any closer?"

Shoichi cursed to himself; so he finally noticed. Throughout their trash-talking and empty threats he'd slowly closed the gap between them, now standing just a few strides away. It didn't matter now at any rate; after taunting him incessantly the clone captain seemed to want nothing more than to kill him with his bare hands.

"You made a lot of demands in between your endless blabbering," said Shoichi. "But staying still wasn't one of them."

Finally the captain snapped. Shoichi had to hand it to him – most people didn't last that long once he started annoying them. The captain's high tolerance would be his downfall. Putting up with Shoichi's mocking for this long had allowed him to get within range; he could scatter them now with a single move.

With the veins visibly throbbing across his bald skull the clone captain holstered his weapon and lunged for Shoichi. The ninja opened his arms, as though preparing to hug his attacker, although his odd gesture did little to sully the rage of the clone. Twisting his body into the move, the captain plunged his fist straight into Shoichi's stomach, feeling ribs crack and kidneys flatten as the ninja released a spray of spittle.

With his hand still buried in the ninja's gut the clone gave a grin as he assessed his handiwork. Shoichi's face was a contorted squint of pain. He keeled over onto the captain's shoulder, managing a rasp and a snigger as he whispered.

"_Gotcha_."

A harmless puff of smoke suddenly bloomed to life where Shoichi once stood, and as the captain stood dumbfounded a roll of something thin and leathery slapped him across the face. Scraps of paper scattered from the mist, fluttering innocently like autumn leaves in the wind, drifting toward the squadron freshly inked and ready to blow.

"_Paper bombs!_" screamed a clone, already too late.

In an instant the countryside was lit up by ten consecutive explosions, igniting in fiery spheres to wreak havoc on the trained formation of the clones. Three went up in smoke from burns alone, another four hit the ground, and the remaining trio scrambled for safety as their hands closed around the radios strapped to their belts.

"_Wind Style: Squall Fang Jutsu!_"

From the gaping opening in the rocks the real Shoichi's voice called out. With his last hand sign in place the jutsu took form; a great tempest of wind crashing as a storm into the already crippled legion of clones. Those on their feet took to the air tumbling as those on the ground were hurled up in manic flips. It took a whole three seconds for them to hit the floor again, a timespan made much longer for Michio Senmatsu.

"_Jikansanpo!_"

Tracks of light marked the blink-and-miss flight of Michio, sailing in a perfect warp across open air before materialising again in a high-speed roundhouse kick to a falling clone's neck. Through the smoke of his first victim he cast his hand sign and shot off again, this time marking his arrival with a savage right hook to the jaw of a second.

A shout of "_Playback Four!_" forced a second Michio to materialise; the copy streamed in a Time Walk from his body and finished a third before the flying squadron finally returned to the ground.

As a soldier by the flank struggled back to his knees a windmill shuriken speared his chest. Shoichi leapt into the fray, blocking three kunai with quick swipes and closing in on the thrower. Once the clone began to cast hand signs it was over – his front was left exposed, his movements too slow to escape the graceful swing of Shoichi's sword that severed his head from his body.

With both fighters just a few steps away the last clone finally steadied himself. Shoichi turned to see his shaking fingers pressed upon the chunky button of his radio. "_Target confirmed! Unit six requesting bac-"_

A windmill shuriken opening his throat prevented the clone from further speech. The attack was in vain however – just five words down a radio sealed their fate. Shoichi looked to his cousin to see that look of terror again. It told him 'we're screwed', and with his own nerves on edge Shoichi didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. Teijo was coming.

"We need to move," said Shoichi. It was the only thing left now – get as far away as possible as quick as they could. With five hand signs and a palm to the ground Shoichi called for his fastest ally.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

The ink circles spread and twin columns of smoke blasted away to reveal two beasts. A pair of panthers, lean and muscular, stood ready to serve at Shoichi's command. Michio leapt back in fright when he saw them. Who could blame him? At over two metres metres long the sabre-toothed creatures weighed a tonne apiece, their backs each coming right up to Shoichi's chest. Save for the bone-white fangs and claws and eyes the colour of blood they were black as dusk from nose to tail – perfect for speed and stealth.

A few traits distinguished one from the other. The female was at once noticeably larger, with bigger eyes and a longer tail. One of her fangs was broken in half where a sword or a shuriken had severed through the bone. The male by contrast was leaner, and from the faded tips about his fur Michio judged he was the elder of the two. An age-old scar stretched from his ear and through his eye before ending above his lip; those claws weren't just for show, these creatures had seen battle before.

Shoichi bowed first, ushering Michio with an urgent gesture to do the same. With his Alpha Gene and gift of empathy Shoichi's understanding of such things came as naturally as breathing. He tried to explain it to Michio once; some of the creatures he befriended had been on this earth longer than even the ninja. Their customs and behaviours were passed down through the generations, and many of them rarely if ever came into contact with humans. The oldest and most powerful breeds of creatures were often easy to offend if one wasn't cautious.

One of the panthers bounded forward to give Michio a sniff. Beside him his cousin laughed as the ninja went a paler tone of white. With the giant wet fist of a nose prodding him Michio saw right up close exactly how sharp those twin fangs were, protruding down from the maw of the creature with enough length to tear him in half if the panther decided it didn't like him. Eventually it gave a grunt and padded back, satisfied.

"Aitrax, Shade, could you lend us a hand?" Shoichi asked.

"Who is this other two-legs you bring before us?" said the female, eyeing Michio up and down.

"Easy Shade, he's family. I wouldn't ask you to ferry someone you didn't know unless it was urgent."

"Then climb on. I smell your father's creations around the corner."

"Climb on?" Michio paused as his cousin clambered aboard a panther, reluctant even in such dire straits. "You know I'm pretty fast myself, I think I'll just stay on my feet," he said.

"You're fast alright," Shoichi agreed. "But unless you plan on using that Time Walk of yours all the way you won't keep up with these guys."

The ninja groaned, and with a look of defeat he pulled himself atop Shade. There was no saddle nor any reins of any kind he could see; these were wild animals in every sense. As the panther honed its claws, raking the ground like a bull about to charge, Shoichi leaned over and whispered,

"You might want to keep the Jikogan deactivated. These guys are gonna show you what real speed is all about."

"But where do I hold onto?"

A gust of wind drowned out Shoichi's reply as the beasts took off. One mighty push of Aitrax and Shade's enormous hind-legs set them off at a blinding haste across the countryside. Instinctually Michio leaned forward and flung his arms around Shade. As they approached shuriken-speeds the wind ruined his hair and battered against his face; opening his mouth even for an instant forced air to fill his cheeks and make his face ripple like a recently disturbed pool of water.

Glancing over proved what Michio suspected: that Shoichi was having the time of his life. His cousin was poised like a jockey as he spurred the scarred panther to his top speed, and once there the ninja sat up, spread out his arms to embrace the wind and called out,

"Isn't this awesome!?"

"You're a dick!" Michio called back, feeling queazy.

Over the scream of the wind Shoichi missed the line. "What was that?" he asked again, lifting a hand to his ear.

"I said I'm going to be sick!"

"Well man up!" Shoichi glanced around. They weren't out of the woods just yet; somewhere secluded and hard to traverse might see them safely out of trouble. A forest sprang up to the east, but after travelling these parts for years Shoichi knew it led right back to the Glacier. The lack of manoeuvrability in the woods meant the giant cats would slow down, braking just in time for another ambush of clones.

Instead Shoichi pointed them west. Innumerable crags and unmapped canyon ranges spread out for miles running up the spine of the Land of Lightning. Steep ravines and sharp passages were child's play to the panthers, but a clone legion on foot would have trouble navigating them. Shoichi only hoped his brother wasn't close; it might already be too late.

Once the panthers began to dart between the rocks the ninja sacrificed a single shuriken as a waypoint. Targeting a faraway thistle, Shoichi positioned himself accordingly and threw, taking care not to falter under the near-hundred mile per hour speed of Aitrax. The weapon veered dangerously on the wind, and for a moment Shoichi thought it was flying wide until it caught the current and speared the plant to the ground. Greenery was rare in parts so dry and barren; an easy thing to spot if they lost their way.

Wherever the sabretooths leapt their claws dragged a small landslide of broken sandstone along with them. The pair skidded down the steepest banks with ease before bounding back into a sprint to clear the next crevasse in a single pounce. For such hulking beasts the agility of the creatures proved staggering; they switched directions in a heartbeat, throwing their riders side to side. Shoichi bucked and whooped with one hand aloof like a cowboy trying to tame to a wild horse. Michio clung on for dear life, praying at any moment that the rollercoaster might end.

In just a few minutes Shoichi felt certain they'd managed to widen the gap between themselves and any pursuers, but still he spurred the panthers on just in case. Before long their meeting spot was long behind them. Fifteen minutes passed before Shoichi finally slowed them to a halt.

In the shadow of a crooked overhand the two ninja drank their fill of water from the skins in their packs. Colour had at last returned to Michio's face, no doubt a sign that he was finally getting used to riding the great beasts that served his cousin.

Once hydrated and rested Shoichi filled in the panthers on the situation – about his brother, the clones and the events leading up to his summoning. Naturally one of them – Aitrax – tried to pin the blame on Michio, claiming they would not have gotten into this trouble if it weren't for his carelessness. Defending him, Shoichi explained that his brother's eyes were everywhere; it was only a matter of time before one of them was caught.

As the sun winked its last rays over the horizon Shoichi and Michio hopped back aboard the panthers and set off again. To Michio's surprise the creatures were in fact quicker in low light; they moved even nimbler and crossed the terrain even faster than before. At his shock Shade told him they were predators of the night; their eyes had long since adapted to hunt their prey in darkness.

Not ten minutes into their gallop however, Shoichi brought up the fist of a clear stop sign once more. He froze in terror, eyes fixated upon a single speck of scenery ahead. Trotting over, Michio guided Shade towards him and prodded his arm. Sighing, Shoichi pointed over the next rise.

"We've been wasting our energy," he said. "Try not to freak out."

At a closer look Michio saw exactly what spooked his cousin. That same grounded thistle stood like an omen in the distance, and if he squinted hard enough he could even make out the windmill shuriken Shoichi had used to mark it with.

Before Michio could panic Shoichi dug in his heels and began to ride Aitrax in a circle, scanning for any sign of an attack. This whole area belonged to Teijo now – he could move from any angle. As he rode around Shoichi threw out his arms, welcoming his opponent with a free shot.

"_Come on out little brother!_" he roared into the wind. Michio opened his mouth to complain, but already Shoichi carried on his taunts. "_You want us? Well here we are! Now how about we skip this game and get down to it?_"

"Shoichi-"

"-_What do you say Teijo? Let's go a few rounds! You and me! Just like old times! Don't tell me you're afraid now are you?_" Finally Shoichi ran out of breath. Returning to his cousin's side he straightened his back and squared his shoulders. There was no way out now; once he saw his shuriken he knew right away that a fight was unavoidable. Seconds of silence passed as Michio's eyes darted around the empty space like a startled rabbit.

"Any moment now," Shoichi assured him. "He won't ignore that one."

Sure enough Shoichi's prediction came true just a few instants after he finished his sentence. Around them the world changed slowly, morphing and twisting its way to some dreamlike plane of existence. Like the stalks of a thousand plants the rocks seemed to stretch upward before them. Sparse, barren trees and greenery found themselves rooted up and thrown asunder with a spray of mud like confetti.

Michio jumped when twin chunks of stone sprouted from the ground either side of them, forming a narrow corridor of sorts before the walls began to buckle and bow towards them, as though made of rubber rather than rock.

Above them the clouds gravitated in singularities, forming tornadoes in the far distance as the sky bled crimson lightning from a sickly green hue. To their eyes everything moved in a way that nature should not have allowed. Running water stood perfectly still in the streams as labyrinths of rock sprang up from the ground, moulded like wet clay. The sun was a dampened smear of watercolour - a weeping orange sphere that seemed just as beautiful as it was terrifying. Concentrating in one direction gave only a nauseous feeling; Shoichi's feet looked a mile away from his body and the clouds above barrelled towards them at a second look.

"Told you," he muttered.

"What is this?" said Michio. With a free hand he touched the surface of the shifting wall beside them, believing it was imaginary until the texture of stone upon his fingers convinced him otherwise.

"It's his Alpha Gene," Shoichi said then. "Genjutsu works for more than just enslaving people."

"But how is he doing this? How can it be real?" was Michio's obvious question. He was convinced now that he could smash through the archway that had sprouted beside them; he would feel the impact on his knuckles and see the waterfall of broken stone scatter apart – his fists might even bleed if he punched it hard enough.

"Real is all in your head Michio – it's a matter of perspective. Real is what you see, what you feel, what you hear, what you taste and what you smell; and Teijo controls it all," Shoichi reflected, regurgitating all the horrific little facts that came with fighting his brother's Alpha Gene. It all boiled down to one thing: "Just telling yourself it isn't 'actually happening' won't change a thing. When you fight this man consider everything as real as it is in any other battle – everything he throws at you – everything little change you experience. We're in Teijo's world now; our minds are his weapons, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Couldn't have put it better myself!" cried a voice.

The pair looked up to see Teijo, gliding down out of nothingness from a spot fifty metres up in the sky. Nothing supported his flight; no wings, no jutsu and no summon – he glided like some celestial guardian down from the sky, still with that mocking grin like he knew something they didn't.

_What a self-important, arrogant, egotistical entrance that was. Teijo, you always were a pretentious brat_, Shoichi thought to himself.

In truth the boy had changed much since Shoichi last saw him. It irked him constantly how much the two looked alike; now at least the problem had lessened. His hair, greasy and scruffy, fell in wiry fingers over his shoulders, a shade darker than his brother's chocolate brown. His eyes too contained that same green sparkle, but a gleam of mania existed there – of mental instability and a desire to kill. He spread his lips in that awful smile of his, baring pearly white teeth that betrayed his ragged appearance.

More than ever Teijo gave Shoichi the impression of a man who shouldn't have been allowed in human society - he looked like a vagrant in his first week following an escape from a mental asylum. He was always a problem child, but their father's doctrines had turned him into a monster, taking pride in his sadism whilst retaining total apathy for laws of a civilised community. The smug look on his face said it all; he knew what he was and he enjoyed every moment of it.

"It's been a long time big brother! I gotta say, I didn't expect to see _you _here! Two birds with one stone! Ain't that right Shoichi?" Gliding to the surface, Teijo landed slowly and gracefully as he waited for his opponents to make the first move.

"Guess we'll just have to fight him!" said Michio, putting up his fists. In the heat of the moment he forgot everything Shoichi told him about it being too dangerous.

"If we kill you here we can end all of this today." Shoichi drew his sword, keeping a firm hand clutching Aitrax's fur as the panther growled beneath him. "Bring everything you've got little brother. Don't hold anything back."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Alright so here's the deal. Originally I planned to have two separate flashbacks for Shoichi one after the other, this being the first one. Both of them would be a chapter each. Unfortunately though I didn't anticipate how long this one would be. I'll finish this one off with the next chapter, then we'll get back to the plot, then I'll shorten the other flashback and put it in at a later date. But on with the new characters.

Shoichi does seem to have a tendency to ignore people's threats doesn't he? Buuut then again he does seem to be pretty tough. In case it wasn't apparent his clones are actually the exact same as Naruto's – just regular Shadow Clones. I imagine since his father has the Alpha Gene for clones and can basically create life with it, Shoichi must have picked up a thing or two just by hanging around him, hence he has the Shadow Clone Jutsu.

Writing Michio was pretty funny too; he's basically just a timid, socially awkward dude who can go all Bruce when the moment calls. I wanted to make him as different from Kazuya as I could considering how alike I made Shoryu and Shoichi. Would be a bit of a cop-out if I just pulled the same move again. It wouldn't make sense for him to be strict and brooding anyway; Kazuya is only meant to be that way because of his upbringing as an orphan, an heir and a samurai.

Teijo – however crazy he is – probably has my favourite Alpha Gene to write. Been waiting to do this scene for a while. Fighting with him is basically like trying to defend yourself whilst tripping balls. Saving the more fun parts of it for when he appears in the current timeline (since this _is _seventeen years ago) but we should still see a fairly interesting fight next chapter – a bit of a sneak preview if you like. Don't look at me like that, it's a tried and tested technique in manga! Kishimoto himself is guilty of it!


	37. Chapter 37 How it all Began

Chapter 37: How It All Began

"Michio." Shoichi lowered his voice as Teijo prepared for war before his eyes. A fight was about to start, one that he couldn't let his cousin be a part of. "You remember what we promised each other right? If I'm not me the next time we see each other, you won't hesitate to kill me – and I'd do the same for you. That was our arrangement wasn't it?"

Michio cocked his head. "Yeah, sure. Why bring it up now though?"

"Say it again. If Teijo or anyone else gets a hold of my body I'd rather see it slain at your hands than used for their regime," Shoichi repeated. It was a vow they swore upon years ago; the very idea of Teijo using their likeness, their status or their jutsu to make his evil ends meet was too extreme to live with.

"Of course Shoichi." Michio nodded. "Like I'd go back on something like that! I don't do half-assed promises."

"Good, just remember that. . . -_Watch out!_"

With Shoichi's horror-stricken eyes and frantic gesture pointing to the sky Michio swivelled upon Shade to see the commotion. His Jikogan scanned the clouds and horizon for Teijo's first move like a hawk. But nothing was there; nothing but the bleeding sky and meandering bolts of lightning that served as their permanent backdrop.

_Always so gullible. Sorry about this Michio, I'll see you around_.

"Where? I don't see anyth-" Michio's speech came to an end as the butt of Shoichi's sword smacked hard against the back of his head. Limp as a fish the ninja collapsed onto the crown of the panther he sat atop.

Teijo's laughter reached a new volume. With his pearly teeth bared the man released a chuckle that soon turned into a high-pitched screech of continuous vowels, echoed around every angle by his Alpha Gene. Shoichi resisted the urge to look behind him; the vile sound came from everywhere, its only purpose to expose his back to Teijo.

"Shade, get Michio as far away from here as you can," said the ninja. "If his attention is focused on me then he won't be able to keep you in his Genjutsu for long. Pick a direction and keep running that way. Don't change course and don't look back."

Shade's courteous reply was drowned by Teijo's wailing laughter coming to a close.

"So virtuous as always big brother!" he said, clapping his hands. "You'd risk fighting me one on one just to save his life?"

Shoichi shook his head. "Honestly, I'm just making it easier for myself. You were banking on Michio charging you, and rightly so – he would have done just that. If you managed to take control of him this fight would be over in an instant. I'll have a hard enough time against just you, let alone both of you at the same time."

As he spoke Shoichi listened to the ambiance, paying close attention to the sound of Shade's paws on the rocks loping away. Teijo made no move to intercept them. Shoichi studied his face; was he testing them? In five years it was difficult to assess how much stronger Teijo had become. The only way to find out was to see for himself. Shoichi's grip tightened on his sword.

Once drawn the full glamour of Shoichi's blade was on display. Black and crystalline, the alloy shone like a midnight shadow, glimmering and stark under the watercolour sun. At close to five feet long the sword was bigger than most katana; two hands were needed for flawless kenjutsu, but the blade's weight meant it could be swung with one for quick cuts.

"Smart plan," said Teijo. "However that _does _mean that the only way you'll be able to get out of here now is through me."

"Hmm." Still atop Aitrax, Shoichi took his sword in his right hand and carved a neat slash into his palm. He then leaned over and thrust his sword into the earth. With the last twenty inches sucked in dirt the ninja left his weapon there, taking note of the bewildered expression his brother displayed. At least he had the element of surprise; most of his jutsu were unknown to Teijo.

"Alright then, let's get started shall we?" From out of his pocket Teijo found a single ryo coin and bounced it around his palm. "Let's say. . . Heads is hot, tails is cold. That sound fair enough?"

Shoichi said nothing as he stared at the spinning golden coin. _Damn, I've never seen this one before. Is it a projectile? In theory he can make it into whatever he wants. Or is it just a coin toss? What kind of odds do I get when he manipulates what I see?_

"You don't need to worry, I won't cheat." Teijo seemed to read his mind. "It's just a coin flip, and either way works for me." With a flick of his thumb the penny span up past his forehead and came back down to his open palm. Flipping it onto his other hand, Teijo covered it as he hyped up the result.

Slowly Teijo's hand crept away. "_Heads it is!_"

The effect was instantaneous. A scorching desert climate swept across Shoichi as his brother revelled in its effectiveness. The shock of the temperature change made him sick, a sudden dizziness that doubled him over sweating with a heartbeat like a drumroll.

Heat waves rose up in groups around him, quickly blurring Teijo into obscurity. As Shoichi found his head and clothes slick with sweat his mouth grew dry, and before long Teijo's projected voice was the only part of him he was able to follow.

"Neat trick huh? I thought it up just last year. Makes people think twice about fighting me."

If the jutsu wasn't bad enough Teijo bombing through the haze of the heat made it worse. Before he could find his sword Shoichi felt the savage touch of his brother's fist crash across his cheek, throwing him off Aitrax where Teijo could continue on. Another attempt to get up was cut short by a kick, and when he tried a third time Teijo's haymaker put stars in his sights. Eventually Shoichi got up, still burning in the heat, but by then Teijo was gone again.

"I won't enslave you just yet. I want you to suffer first – slowly and painfully. I'll bring you back to the Sanctum unburdened so you can apologise to father and sister with your own tongue."

_Can't fight in this heat. Think! How do you combat hot weather? Sunblock? No Shoichi! Not sunblock you moron! Air conditioning? Air conditioning!_

Three hand signs followed before Teijo could make his next move. "_Wind Style: Zephyr Stream!_"

Squalls of air in wavering currents suddenly burst from the final seal Shoichi made. In cross-cutting streams they swirled around him like a mantle of ghostly ribbons. As a low-level technique the jutsu was designed to redirect incoming shuriken, keeping cool was a handy side-effect.

Even though the heat persisted its presence became far more bearable. With a gentle breeze blowing through his clothes Shoichi could concentrate on the fight. As his eyes darted around he removed his jacket, draping the blue garment over a rock to avoid stains.

"Is it my turn now?" Shoichi called to the heat waves.

"Go ahead brother! I'm waiting here; show me what you can do!"

Vague human shapes formed silhouettes in the mirage surrounding Shoichi, a confusing crowd that constantly appeared in his peripheries. He ignored them; Teijo had already given him his cue to attack. His brother's curiosity would spare him a quick death – for now.

"It's been a while Teijo, I don't suppose you remember what _my _Alpha Gene entails," said Shoichi.

"The Summoning Jutsu right? What about it?" came Teijo's reply.

The ninja grinned. "It's kind of a hard skill to nurture when you're stuck on an isolated island for most of your teenage years. The only contracts I could form back then were those father presented to me. Freedom made me stronger Teijo; I didn't fully appreciate the value of this power until the world became open to me."

"Oooohh." Mocking fear, the surroundings spoke again. "Is that supposed to frighten me big brother? Make your move. . . Or I'll make it for you."

_Right. . . _As he glanced around the clearing Shoichi formulated a plan. Obscuring, suffocating illusions made the battlefield a small one, and the ninja needed all the room he could get. Shoichi's hand signs almost made themselves; in just a few moments the right strategy was clear to him. His fingers did the rest of the work. _I need a better field of vision_.

"_Wind Style: Outburst Jutsu!_"

Air exploded in a perfect circle from Shoichi, crumbling illusions left right and centre as Aitrax hooked his claws and held on. Green chakra so strong it took physical form leapt from Shoichi's fingertips. In a growing tsunami gale-force winds blasted the highlands, dulling the heat waves and revealing Teijo's location.

"_Shadow Clone Jutsu!_" Rather than heading straight for his brother Shoichi got into position. As his three clones circled Teijo the black panther bounded to the summoner. Shoichi hopped aboard and backed off; even from a distance he saw his clones forming seals in perfect synchronism – his opening move. Teijo merely watched them, hardly batting an eyelid even as three right hands planted the ground. Ink circles spread before the voices cried in unison:

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

_Checkmate_. Shoichi smiled as his backup arrived in a trio of smoky explosions engulfing the area. White mist plumed to the discoloured clouds above, and when it cleared his odds didn't seem so bad.

The first Shadow Clone rode a violet coloured snake bigger than a whale. At over fifty feet in height Manda was the first to emerge from the fog, his oversized head poking out as his forked tongue licked the air. Six bony protrusions sprouted from its head, the last pair giving way to a sequence of white rings running down the snake's entirety. Easily his most volatile summon, even Shoichi himself found himself fearful of the serpent. Malicious yellow slits formed its pupils, hardly a look that begged trust and loyalty.

As the wind blew over the second came into view, a dark rhino as high and large as a house. Legs thicker than tree trunks battered the folding rocks whenever it so much as shuffled. Twin horns sharp as Aitrax's fangs rose in single file, visibly taller than Shoichi's clone stood right between them. Jehruud was his name, Shoichi's favourite ally when it came to wanton destruction. Stampeding through a stronghold with him caused more damage than an earthquake.

The third was an eagle, slightly larger than Aitrax when it sat down to roost. Proud and diligent, the beast stood in golden and white where its feathers met in jagged patterns, flaring out four great wings in a show of aggression as it locked eyes with Teijo.

"Lorakai! Easy girl, don't attack him just yet. Take us to the skies."

A shrill screech was the eagle's only reply as a single beat of her wings propelled them right up to Manda's eye-level. The two summons glared at each other; bringing a bird and a snake to the same battlefield was never a good idea. They had history – or their families did at least – but Shoichi knew that he couldn't call himself a summoner unless he had them under his command.

"Don't even think about it you two!" the ninja called up. "You can settle things when we're done here. If you don't focus against this guy then we're dead!"

Teijo's counterattack came in force. Flying upward, the Senmatsu prodigy spiralled toward the bickering creatures, his foot slamming hard into the rhino's jaw as he made his ascent. Manda reared back its head and hissed, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

At the same time Shoichi and Aitrax set off. Nimble as a shadow the panther bounced from rock to rock as segments of the earth bent up to block their path. The surface had a mind of its own; in toxic clouds the dirt and sand swirled to form impassable zones, and all the while Shoichi found himself bombarded by homing rounds of black slate.

Those that Aitrax couldn't dash away from Shoichi had to contend with by himself. Wind Jutsu of varying sizes and ranks streamed from his seals at every sharp corner, battering the rocks back down and clearing whatever drifts of smog tried to keep them from Teijo. The fight had barely begun and already he felt the strain on his chakra; expending it in bulk was the only way to stay alive.

When Manda lashed out, its gaping maw quicker than a bullet, Teijo was consumed by him. Rather than shearing into four under the snake's bite however, his figure suddenly vanished in a moving haze of liquid shadow. Manda arched back and looked around. Even from a distance Shoichi could spot his brother, rematerializing in ribbons of darkness right at the snake's blind spot.

Shoichi's clone sprang into action, turning to cover Manda's weakness with the flight of a windmill shuriken. Teijo smacked it aside with a fist. When he moved in for the kill at last the flick of a kunai made Shoichi's clone vanish in smoke, his elbow meeting the snake's cranium with a mountain-crushing blow.

_But how? _Shoichi wondered as Manda's flat face hit the ground. At a glance the snake weighed a hundred tonnes; the force required to drop such a creature was beyond anything human, but Teijo's Alpha Gene gave him whatever he wanted. Shoichi realised with a start that by manipulating the senses, his brother could make turn lightest flick into a bee sting. _He couldn't do that back in the day_.

"Aitrax! Don't stop! Keep going!" he ushered the beast.

"_Revert!_" said Teijo, forming a hand sign.

In an instant Shoichi's world was changed again. Stomach churning vertigo welled up within; his insides suddenly hollow as he found himself running upside down. Below him the sky stretched out like a still pool of water ready to envelop him, the shifting rocks by his side like lamplights on a ceiling. Aitrax stopped too, anchoring himself with his claws from the sudden fear of falling.

_It's strange; his attacks on Manda and Jehruud – and now this. It looks like he can affect my summons with his Genjutsu. . . _Something didn't add up. Shoichi made a face trying to work it out. _But he touched two of them; he used close combat. Why didn't he take control of them? I guess he can't enslave creatures so easily. Good – at least that's a relief._

"Dead ahead Aitrax. We need to close the distance. Ignore the illusion."

"Easy for you to say," grumbled the panther. Regardless, Aitrax set off at a sprint once again, albeit at a more cautious pace. As they approached the battle Teijo took to the skies once more to deal with Lorakai. The eagle ducked and dived from his attacks, with Shoichi's clone firing off consecutive blades of wind from her back. Shadow Clones wouldn't keep Teijo away for long though.

Shoichi cursed to himself; he had to make a move soon. Fortunately with Manda stirring back into consciousness an idea crossed his mind.

"There! Jump on his tail!"

The king of snakes understood right away. Aitrax leapt aboard the rattle of Manda's tail and upped his speed to a furious bound. Smooth scales gave them a natural highway to dash up, a winding road that grew steeper and steeper as Manda drew himself back to full height. At all times Shoichi kept his eyes fixed on his brother, casting his signs only when certain Teijo was looking at Lorakai.

"_Shadow Clone Jutsu!_"

With a flash of smoke another clone took its seat atop Aitrax. Everything fell into place perfectly. With Teijo's back turned he failed to notice as his brother threw himself off the speeding shadow onto Manda, nor the leaping panther with his clone in tow hurtling through the air towards him. Using the snake's incline as a ramp the sabre-toothed cat propelled itself through the air, ignoring the inverted floor as it stretched out its claws for a pounce.

Tackled from the sky, Teijo found himself falling, pinned by one feral claw of a panther as the visage of his brother cast hand signs atop the beast. As the trio spiralled downward Aitrax swung a claw, the blades tearing through fabric to draw a series of wounds down Teijo's chest. Even then Teijo regarded his brother as the greater threat; he loosed a kunai aimed for the jugular, and then froze in horror when Shoichi dissipated into smoke.

In a tumble of fists, claws and teeth Aitrax and Teijo hit the ground fighting. A second passed before both leapt to their feet to resume their battle. Shoichi meanwhile remained hidden.

In the venomous wet cavern of Manda's mouth Shoichi found himself looking out at the fight, the snake's fangs like bars over his window. As Manda reared back he clung to the white daggers for support, for when the creature swung its head back he nearly fell toward the eternal blackness of its throat. Like a whip Manda snapped back to his original position, opening his mouth as the momentum carried Shoichi like a bullet towards his brother.

Forming hand signs the ninja shot towards Teijo, but just a few moments into his flight and Shoichi noticed something amiss. Aitrax lay nursing an injury, and with nothing to capture his attention Teijo spotted him immediately. A wicked grin spread to his lips as he opened up his arms in an embrace. That daring invitation – Shoichi had seen it before. _He's preparing to enslave me, _he realised. _I can't let him touch me!_

Shoichi abandoned his hand signs in a rush. Instead he turned to the black tattoo etched into his wrist, slapping his hand over it with precious few second to spare.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

At the moment of impact Shoichi swung his right arm down. Clouds fled his hand as something materialised in his grip. With his sword back in hand Shoichi's range was massive. The Flying Swallow technique augmented his already lengthy blade with an extra sheen of wind sharper than ever. In seeing the move Teijo moved to dodge in a smog of darkness, yet the attack still struck him.

When Teijo rematerialized a line of blood stretched from collarbone to armpit. The wound was shallow but long; it would bleed until treated and combat would only stretch it to make matters worse. What confused Shoichi was his brother's apathy towards it. He didn't even flinch, never mind cry out in pain.

"Clever!" Teijo gave a smirk. "You switched yourself out with a clone at the last second. _And _you managed to turn your sword into an instant summon."

"Yeah, those were steps one and two."

Shoichi's third step came in the form of a rhinoceros as big as a galleon thundering across his field of view. Under the hooves of Jehruud's charge Teijo was trampled, rolling at least a dozen times through kicked-up rubble and dried mud before the rhino passed him by.

Shoichi could only watch as his brother rose to his feet again. Despite bleeding everywhere – no doubt fractured in five different places – Teijo still remained indifferent. He gave a loud crack of his knuckles, his sideways sneer convincing Shoichi he was unhurt.

_What? I've never seen anyone get up from that! Has he found a way to block out pain? Or is he even in pain at all? If this is all in our heads then he's the master here; maybe nothing less than a sword through the heart will stop him. No_. The ninja shook his head. _It's pointless to think about that stuff when I can't prove any of it. I have to stay focused._

"I guess I'll take my turn then," said Teijo.

A few seconds of nothing came and went; Shoichi was about to ask what the rush was before his brother's technique became apparent. Adding to the vertigo of hanging upside down his senses were violated further as his vision split before him. Teijo multiplied – without hand signs or jutsu there were suddenly three of him, then five, then seven – more versions of him blurred from both sides by the second, until at last a small Teijo army surrounded Shoichi.

_Crap_. As the swarm began to draw hand signs Shoichi used his remaining few seconds to check around him. Save for Aitrax his summons were all too far away to intervene. At a glance there was no way to tell which Teijo was the real one. Shoichi knew then that if he couldn't dispel the Genjutsu all thirty of their jutsu would hit him simultaneously – they might as well all be real.

Quick as he could Shoichi took to his ace in the hole – something he'd been waiting to try since the battle began. Pain was a natural bane to Genjutsu. _I might not be able to break out of this thing, but I should be able to target the real one_ _without him noticing_.

With his right palm still cut open from summoning Shoichi redoubled the grip on his sword, immediately feeling a stab of pain as blood flowed between the cracks in his fingertips. A slight wince was his only reaction. Good – Teijo didn't suspect a thing. In a hasty quickdraw Shoichi flicked a windmill shuriken out with his left hand, spinning it around his finger as he looked at the ring around him.

Still forming hand signs, all thirty Teijo spoke in unison. "Choose fast brother! I hope you pick the right one!"

Squeezing his hand tighter Shoichi finally found results. Visages of Teijo flickered in and out of existence around him, each of them fading like a dying light bulb. All except one.

"_Wind Style!-_" they cried.

Shoichi's arm was a snap of lightning as he turned and hurled the shuriken with all his might. On a veering course the star swerved towards its mark, his jutsu still on his lips as the blade buried itself in Teijo's shoulder. Relaxing his hand, Shoichi came back into the illusion, just in time to witness every single copy falling back onto their asses in the same reaction.

By the time they hit the ground only the real Teijo remained. Clutching his shoulder he kept pressure on the affected area. Blood poured from the shuriken's stab like a river. Again he didn't seem in pain, but this time his expression was hardly vacant; Teijo grew more and more frustrated by the second, ashamed that his brother had landed such a vital blow.

He said not a word, but Shoichi prepared himself for the worst as Teijo began to chain seal after seal.

"_Ninja Art: Kaiyami Ougi!_"

Darkness spread from the man like a plague, blanketing the area around him in a thick, all-consuming shadow. Squeezing his hand didn't make a difference to Shoichi; he saw it all the same, a web of blackness rising up and out Teijo, ever expanding like superheated jelly. Either it was a physical jutsu or a Genjutsu too powerful for him to break out of – it made little difference in the end.

"I'm impressed you forced me to use this Shoichi! I guess now I'll have to finish you off!"

_I need more firepower to combat this thing. It's too risky to keep the others here anymore_.

"Listen up!" Shoichi called to his comrades. "Everyone return to your homes now! We can't fight this thing as we are!"

The summons didn't like that one bit. Normally the enemy was dead or captured before Shoichi gave him his permission to leave. Now their foe looked stronger than ever; to turn their backs and leave would be shameful for these proud creatures bred for war.

"The fight is over when I'm feasting on his corpse," Manda hissed.

"I hate to say it Shoichi but I agree with him this one time." Aitrax padded over, his fangs bared in a show of contempt. "We can't leave you here alone with him. It's over when it's over."

Shoichi shook his head. "I won't be alone. I've got no choice now but to summon _them_. You don't want to get caught in the crossfire do you Manda!?"

That told them; Shoichi only had to mention _their_ name and all his summons grew pale with fear. The great snake shrank back and spat in dissent, saying nothing in the end as he finally complied with Shoichi's orders. Jehruud and Lorakai bade him farewell before leaving in smoke as well. Aitrax slumped away nursing his wounds.

"I'll take my leave too then. Let me know if and when you get out of here safely."

"I will, thanks Aitrax." Shoichi nodded.

Another puff of smoke and Shoichi was alone with his brother and that cancerous dark jutsu. With his sword he made a cut down his other hand before planting his blade back in the mud and falling into hand signs.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

This time it was Shoichi's left palm that slapped the ground. Throughout the dozens of blood seals he'd signed in the past, only this one had been forged using his left hand – a result of his right being broken at the time. An ink circle spread from him bigger than any before, visible for a mere half a second before a shroud of white cloud consumed the area.

Once the mist cleared even Teijo stopped to look, for the creatures he'd summoned were known only in ancient myths and forgotten legends.

Dragons – four of them. Tall and gleaming in scales of every shade of the rainbow, the leader spread its wings to their widest and roared a hot chimney of fire to the skies. In blue and black he was ferocious as any beast before him, as big as Manda with a far more terrifying array of weapons. Claws and teeth joined a barbed tail made for destruction – perfect with his ease of flying. In terms of combat they had everything; breath of fire for their offence and scales hard as diamond for their defence. No summon Shoichi knew of could rival them in strength.

"Ryujin!" he called up, addressing the others in turn. The second was a green female of smaller stature. "Kogo!" The last two were brothers; the smallest of them all in crimson and orange, with enough aerial speed to give Aitrax a race to remember. "Okuni! Ninigi! I wouldn't have called you all out here if this wasn't serious."

"Get on then. We've been waiting for a good hunt."

Shoichi did as he was told and found a crook in the Ryujin's neck to seat himself. Teijo kept his distance, swathed in an ever-growing darkness as he waited for the best moment.

"Use attack pattern delta," said Shoichi. "Hit him with everything you've got."

"Understood."

In a synchronised flap of wings the four creatures took flight, banking off in separate directions like a spectral firework rocketing to the sky. With Shoichi in tow Ryujin flew straight up, making for the clouds whilst the ninja swivelled in his seat, a watchful eye on the battle below.

Napalm scoured the surface of the gorge as Kogo made a rush straight for Teijo. Like charred paper his shield of shadows crumpled and smoked where he lifted it in defence. Javelins of the vile jutsu rushed up in a backlash, though Kogo rolled in a dizzying twirl to evade. She passed safely over Teijo as the ninja prepared for another shot at her, fingers interlocking for another use of his jutsu.

Okuni intervened, the scarlet dragon bearing down in a sideways hack of his claws. Through liquid shadow they scored past Teijo's barrier, knocking him off balance before Ninigi took his place. A single great beat of his orange wings gave enough off downward force to make Teijo cover his eyes, instinctually blinding himself to the white fireball that knocked him off his feet and melted the dark miasma.

"Shoichi, now is the time."

"Gotcha!" Shoichi found himself so entranced by their movements that he forgot all about aiding them, but the best was yet to come. With the time they'd bought Shoichi and Ryujin managed to climb hundreds of feet, their heads touching the clouds. Beneath him the ninja felt the cool blue scales of the dragon lord heat up as fire pooled in his belly; that was his cue to act.

Springing to his feet Shoichi bounded his way up the spine of the dragon until he reached Ryujin's crown. He strung together hand signs and channelled chakra to his fingertips as sharp as he could make it. In front of him the two fissures of Ryujin's nostrils columned black smoke that obscured his vision. As the dragon looked down Shoichi sent chakra to the soles of his feet to keep him steady, locking his last seal into place.

"_Wind Style: Infernal Fang Jutsu!_"

Combining with the flames of the mightiest dragon Shoichi's breeze became a hurricane of molten, flesh-searing fire that bore down in a widening cone like a pillar of wrath from a god. As the dragons cleared the area the land was consumed by the flames, melting rock into smooth, plastic-looking shapes and grass into fields of ash.

"Did we get him?" Shoichi asked, unable to see through the smoke.

"Of course we did, no one survives that technique."

But Teijo did survive. Using the rocks as a shield he pushed them off once the flames died down, oblivious to the state of ruin his body was in. More than half of his face was caught in the flames, an unsightly mess of smoking patches of flesh, bright pink and even black across his forehead. Hair was missing too; spots of scalp could be seen on his head like a cruel prank at a party. His clothes had turned to rags with some spare looms of fabric across his knees and shoulders, his decency preserved only by the torn remnants of his trousers.

Even then Teijo looked more angry than in pain. For any ninja Shoichi knew – himself included – such wounds would bring the battle to an end. Remaining conscious in that state just didn't happen, but Teijo didn't feel the pain. He stood glowering at the sky like a vengeful child before starting his attack again.

Before any could react Teijo's malevolent jutsu took form again. He threw out his arm, and from it tendrils of woven shadow formed a claw, stretching up to the air like a rocket, growing in size as it did so. Like a whip it coiled around Ninigi before jerking him closer and into his reach. The ninja cast a hand sign, extending his middle and ring fingers for an unconventional pose; Shoichi knew it all too well.

"_Get out of there!_" he called down.

"_Ninja Art: Mind Dominion Jutsu._"

Too late. With a single touch of his signature seal Teijo enslaved the orange dragon. One moment there was a proud, raging lizard struggling free of the shadows; in the next there was a submissive, pathetic looking creature, patiently waiting for its new master to give him an order.

_What the. . . _Shoichi shook his head – how could he have been so stupid? He'd convinced himself Teijo's possession technique didn't work on his summons, never stopping to consider the truth. As if to confirm his suspicions his brother's laughter rose up on the wind, mocking him for his failure.

"What's the matter brother? You thought I couldn't enslave these creatures of yours? Fool! I _wanted _you to think that; I held off on capturing them – I was waiting for you to bring out your most powerful creatures so I could see the look on your face when I take them for myself!"

_Damn it! _Shoichi sat there livid as Ryujin glided back towards the battlefield. Contemplating his brother's trickery, the ninja forgot all about his surroundings. A brief lapse in concentration nearly made him victim to the layers of Genjutsu his brother had laid down, yet a flash of crimson in his peripheries spurred him back into action.

"_TEIJO!_" Okuni roared, fire spilling from his maw as he closed in for the kill.

"Get back!" shouted Koga. "We still have strength in numbers! You'll only be caught too!"

But the dragon wasn't listening. He touched down in a storm of claws and teeth making swings at the puppet-master. Teijo ducked and jumped and spat out jutsu to deflect them, but as Okuni grew more and more wild he turned his back to run. Rocks flew up to guide his retreat, the stones forming a cave of sorts for the ninja to scurry inside and wait. Okuni blunted his claws to stumps against the rock face, oblivious to the ruse.

Behind him the wispy outline of a shadow bloomed in the air. Okuni turned – straight into the teeth of his brother. In a wheel of crimson and orange the two dragons wrestled each other for dominance, their bodies flattening the ground as boulders shattered under their weight. Seeing no choice but to fight his brother Okuni sucked in air for a fireball. He never noticed Teijo, the comparatively tiny man materialising in black smoke at his tail.

"_Okuni!_" Ryujin boomed down. Silence fell for the first time since the battle began. Shoichi knew what it meant; as the two dragons finally slowed to a halt Okuni's blank expression told him everything – that he was no longer the master of his own body. If only he hadn't been so reckless; now it was three against three. Their odds only seemed to get worse.

"You should leave. You too Koga!" he called. "We can't win against him! Not like this! I'm sorry I dragged you into it."

"We're going nowhere," settled Ryujin. With another puff of black smoke he made his position clear. "We're a family. We cannot leave until those two are returned to us."

"_Sorry!_" Teijo's voice sang from every direction as he and his two new dragons took their places behind him. The ninja snapped his fingers, and then there were two of him; two hideously scarred ninja with scruffy hair and pearly teeth. "But I quite like these guys! Can't say I'm ready to give them up just yet!"

As each Teijo hopped aboard, Ninigi and Okuni took to the skies. Side by side they ran in rings around the three survivors, circling them like wolves threatening their prey. Shoichi watched them intently, trying to work out which one they would target first – and more importantly, which was the real Teijo. Squeezing his hand only drew more blood; the genjutsu proved too powerful to see past just by inducing pain.

Shoichi muttered a curse as the dragons banked for Koga. The green dragon growled and readied a flame when her children came streaming towards her.

"Koga MOVE!" thundered Ryujin.

Instead she stood her ground. As the trio collided she sunk her teeth into Okuni's arm, claws latching onto him to maintain her flight as Ninigi barrelled into her flank like a train. Blood poured in a savage fountain as she bit down harder and shook her head from side to side, the momentum knocking Teijo off the dragon's back to plummet back to the surface.

Seeing his brother fall like a helpless piece of debris sparked a thought from Shoichi. _Wait a second, Teijo can fly in this world. That means. . ._ "Koga! Behind you! He's with Ninigi!"

Koga released the dragon in her jaws and flapped around just in time to see her second son rushing her way in a bolt of orange, the contented snigger of Teijo sat on his back. The ninja leapt to his feet and jumped off the dragon as a flame from Ryujin knocked it from the sky, and with a surge of darkness he glided ahead to land on Koga's back.

Seeing that same hand sign again Shoichi launched off Ryujin and threw his last windmill shuriken. Teijo kicked it aside, the action distracting him for a moment as Shoichi descended towards him. With a slap of his wrist and a shout of "_Summoning Jutsu!_" the black sword puffed back into his hand.

Shoichi came down with an overhead swing, his blade glancing in sparks off the green scales of Koga as his brother swerved to evade. A kick smashed into his ribs before Teijo followed up with a three-punch combo – two swift jabs to the gut and a final haymaker to connect with Shoichi's jaw. Seeing dark spots, the ninja cut at thin air, using the sword's length to create distance and time for him to attack again – but in those few seconds Teijo acted.

"_Ninja Art: Mind Dominion Jutsu!_"

When Shoichi came back to reality it was already too late. Beneath him Koga bucked and thrashed as Teijo clung on. Unable to keep footing, Shoichi found himself reaching out for a wing before descending into free-fall. Faster and faster the ground below rushed up to meet him; it would be a quick splat and a heap of broken bones to mark his death – hardly the kind of end Shoichi desired for the fight.

Fortunately Ryujin scooped him up, ducking into a nose dive before pulling up as Shoichi nestled onto his neck. The pair skimmed the ground for a moment, dodging the living surface and random spouts of water. With a few flaps of his wings Ryujin took them higher; Okuni tried another round of dive-bombs until the larger dragon swatted him aside like an annoying gnat.

Higher and higher they flew; Shoichi wondered what on earth Ryujin was doing until he noticed the dragon was actively avoiding flying anywhere near his possessed kin. Through a fog of dense cloud they rose, with Shoichi emerging damp and shivering as they kept going higher. Eventually it became hard to breathe and even colder than ever. A stripe of darkness covered the horizon. Shoichi studied it for a few moments before realising it was the verge of space; never before had he flown this high.

"Ryujin, why take us up here?" he asked. "You planning for some kind of suicide kamikaze attack?"

The dragon growled as he slowed to a hover. "Nothing like that Shoichi. I only wanted some privacy – the others can't fly this high, the air is too dense for them. Your brother won't reach us here."

"Now might be a good chance for us to get out of here then," Shoichi observed.

"I can't do that. I won't leave my family behind. But _you _can. You can get out of this mess can't you? You could survive this?"

"I. . ." The ninja released a sigh. After everything, running alone would only make him feel worse. "I could, yeah. I have no plans on doing that though."

"No, you have to," said Ryujin. "Use the Summoning Jutsu for my clan – you'll understand."

Shoichi paused. "Hang on; I already summoned all four of you! Using the jutsu again won't do anything."

"_Just use it!_" roared the dragon.

Shrugging, Shoichi figured he'd humour Ryujin and at least give it a try. His fingers formed five seals before his left hand smacked the sapphire scales of the dragon's back. Squiggles and archaic characters spread from the circle of ink his hand created.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

A small puff of smoke burst into being – Ryujin wasn't lying. Shoichi sat there scratching his head, wondering why this creature hadn't been summoned to the battlefield when he called them. His question was answered when the smoke cleared. There, nestled on the surface of Ryujin's back, was an egg.

"This is Koga's – and mine too," said Ryujin. "Promise me you'll look after it. Make sure our legacy lives on."

"I-" Shoichi stammered. After dooming them all he couldn't bring himself to accept. "I'm not worthy of it."

"If you feel that way then give it to someone you think is. I'll trust your judgement. Without its mother the egg won't hatch unless it grows attached to someone."

The ninja nodded his head, carefully slipping the egg into his tool pouch. He could hardly refuse Ryujin's last request; he owed the dragon that much.

"How do you plan on escaping then?" Ryujin asked.

Shoichi replied by stringing five hand signs together and slapping down his right hand. This time his summoning conjured a furry creature; a harmless little ball of fur no bigger than a football with two stumpy legs as its only appendages. Then its eyes opened, showing two enormous orange orbs that made up most of its body.

"Breem, get me a reverse summoning – as fast as you can."

"_Breee!_" chirped the furball. The fuzzy creature hopped up and down and twirled around before vanishing in smoke once more.

"Let's go," said Shoichi. "I don't have long."

With low growl as his only reply Ryujin's wings stopped flapping. The two fell into a dive, plummeting as an enormous blue comet back down into the atmosphere. Dragons on all sides made furious sweeps at them, but Ryujin in all his speed burned them off in flips and barrel rolls until his claws shredded the earth upon landing.

One after another the dragon lord's enslaved kinsmen swooped to the ground and fell into formation beside Teijo. He opened his arms, welcoming an attack with a wide smile. Ryujin was only too happy to give him one.

The dragon bloomed another cloud of black smog from his nostrils. "Keep yourself safe Shoichi. I might only be able to buy you a few seconds before he gets to me. I have to be with family, whatever the situation."

Shoichi nodded; if their positions were reversed he'd do the same. "I'll make sure you're freed one day," he promised.

With that, Ryujin was off. Like a battering ram the dragon was unstoppable, tearing through hordes of flying slate and lifted trees turned into spears. One by one the dragons flew at him; Okuni found himself flattened under the weight of his arm and Ninigi was thrown aside by a whip of his spiked tail, as thick as an ancient oak tree.

When Koga attacked it was in fire. Shoichi could only watch as jets of flame from the two most fearsome dragons collided in a roar. Even as they clashed Ryujin continued to barrel forward in heavy stomps, his fire slowly overruling hers until he came within range and rammed her aside.

Now Teijo was his only target, still holding out his arms as if expecting an embrace. With jaws snapping Ryujin made a lunge. His teeth met only the rocks; Teijo leapt up and back with the grace of an angel before conjuring his demonic jutsu. A great claw of shadow and dusk leapt from his arm, clasping around Ryujin's head and pushing him down as he charged. The dragon skidded chin-first across the gravel before his brethren were on him again, teeth and claws mauling his exposed flank like savage pit-bulls.

In the end the three of them managed to pin him down. Teijo glided down to stand on the tip of Ryujin's nose. One touch and it was all over.

When Ryujin rose again Shoichi knew he'd been turned. He lumbered – without the vigour and purpose the lord of all dragons normally embodied. His eyes were cold and emotionless; nothing but dread and submission lay behind the usual sparkle of those giant sapphires. Together the four of them fell into place behind Teijo as he laughed.

"What now Shoichi? Why not just come quietly? Father, sister, uncle; they're all waiting for you. Come on now, this has gone on long enough. You're only making a fool of yourself."

Shoichi shook his head, not bearing to look at Ryujin. "No thanks. I'm actually leaving soon. Got things to do you see."

"You actually think you're _going somewhere?_" Teijo said in ridicule. When Shoichi nodded with a knowing smile he added, "Even if you could get away that headband betrays you brother. The Hidden Cloud is it?"

Shoichi swore under his breath; he was hoping Teijo wouldn't take notice. In truth the thought occurred to him already, but removing his forehead protector in the middle of battle would only draw attention to it – this outcome was unavoidable.

"What a lovely coincidence!" Teijo showed his teeth in a smug grin. Shoichi knew what he was about to say before he opened his mouth. "Because I'm controlling the Tenth Raikage! I could search the ranks of the ninja – I can knock on every household – there isn't a place in the Hidden Cloud you can't hide from me."

Teijo didn't make idle threats. In that moment Shoichi suddenly understood that his life would have to change; if he returned to the Cloud then his brother would kill him. Not just him – Yuuko and his unborn child would be made victims as well, them and everyone who'd ever been kind to him would be slaughtered or turned before his eyes. Teijo would save him for last.

So Shoichi said nothing. He didn't trust himself to reply, knowing that even the slightest hint of information could betray his family. He couldn't let Teijo take them all away – he wouldn't.

"Well since you're obviously stalling for time I guess I'll have to skip with controlling you and move straight on to killing you," Teijo decided. He jerked his thumb to the dragons. "Already bagged enough for today anyway. So Shoichi, want to see my most powerful trick?"

Without waiting for a response Teijo lifted his hands to the air. Silence passed for the following seconds until Shoichi realised the sky above was changing. The clouds formed a ring, shrouded by blood red chakra as they swirled to create an opening. Again Shoichi wondered whether this was some unholy jutsu or an illusion; it didn't matter either way once the technique started.

Meteors of every shape and size poured from the wormhole in the sky in flaming clusters. Hundreds of them fell at rain like once, and as Shoichi watched them descend he knew speed was all that mattered here. He had to stay alive for as long as possible.

"Come on Breem," he muttered to himself. "Now's a good time for that summoning."

He expected to be whisked away right until the last moment, but when the storm fell his escape was nowhere to be found. Instead Shoichi fell into a sequence of manoeuvres, his eyes locked on the sky approaching tirade.

Using jumps and rolls and flips and spins he danced through the falling rocks. Around him explosions went off by the second as the meteors hit the ground, leaving smouldering craters where they met the earth with each a bang like a thousand drums being played around him.

Ten seconds in felt closer to ten days. It wasn't long before his muscles ached and his movements slowed, the chakra exhaustion of constantly summoning doing him few favours for his stamina. At last an inevitable meteor struck him by the shoulder. Fortunately it was small and broke on his body – hardly enough to leave any lasting damage, but in his momentary trip-up Teijo pounced.

As Shoichi turned back to the maelstrom his brother was upon him, with that same hand sign he knew too well just inches away from his face. Teijo had forgotten all about killing him it seemed; he seized the chance to catch Shoichi alive, and with his pointing fingers too close to dodge all Shoichi could do was close his eyes and pray.

Silence swept over the ninja.

In the blink of an eye the explosions ceased, the heat subsided and Shoichi's nauseating vertigo was no more. He opened his eyes to perhaps the oddest change in scenery he'd ever experienced.

One moment he was in a life or death struggle with his brother in a meteor storm, and in the next he found himself in a damp, dimly lit cave, surrounded on all sides by a crowd of at least fifty tiny little creatures with furry bodies and giant, inquisitive eyes.

They varied in size, though none of them came past his knee. The Pomai were Shoichi's first ever creatures he learned to summon; although they couldn't speak, they understood every word of his command and were loyal till their last. Shoichi thanked the oldest and wisest with a short bow as the younglings swarmed in excitable squeals around his ankles. Wading through them all without stepping on them was difficult as he made his way towards the cave opening.

Sunlight poured through the mouth of the cavern. Shoichi hopped up to the exit and surveyed the landscape, finding himself on the slope of an incredibly large mountain with nothing but forest and savannah for as far as the eye could see. He'd been here before; this was three days north of the Land of Earth, right on the very fringe of the ninja world. He couldn't risk seeing his friends; he couldn't even risk going back to the Cloud – back to his home.

Shoichi released a sigh and began to put one foot in front of the other, trying to figure out what the hell he should do next.

* * *

Seventeen Years Later

"It was you." Shoryu realised with a start. Everything made sense now – more pieces of the puzzle slotted into place. "My first ever mission; protecting Kyoh's egg. We had an anonymous client – he never came to the village, but he posted up that same mission once every year. Reizo-sensei said he'd done it too. That client. . .It was you all along. You gave me my first mission."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Damn, finally! Did so many drafts of this chapter you wouldn't believe it, but at least now we can get back to the main story and catch up with Shoryu. _  
_

So yeah, this is how the dragon egg came into Shoryu's hands. After he was left with it Shoichi turned it into a mission, posted anonymously from outside the village, and the process was repeated every year until it finally hatched in Shoryu's possession. This chapter also answers a couple of questions. For one we see Shoichi take off his jacket (the one Shoryu wears) and leave it on a rock. I imagine that was the only thing the Cloud ninja ever found from him, so they gave it back to his widow. Also a few chapters ago Free mentioned that dragons guarded the entrance to Magnus Sanctum - now we know why.

Also just to clear this up, the Manda we saw in this chapter is _not _the same one we saw in Naruto already, it's just a descendant. They just happen to share the same name. The only real difference between them is that this new one is much smaller and has a _slightly _different colour scheme.


	38. Chapter 38 A New Objective

Chapter 38: A New Objective

"So then, what happened to Michio?" Shoryu asked.

Shoichi looked up, confused.

"You mentioned Kazuya's father got away, yet you told me ten minutes ago he was dead for sure."

"That. . ." Shoichi sat down and released a deep breath. "Is a story I'd rather save for another time. Your friend Kazuya deserves an explanation – and it's not something I want to discuss more than once."

Behind the eyes of a sea green – the same as his own – Shoryu saw only anguish. Just talking about it seemed to trouble him. Shoichi looked up again, hopeful this time.

"So have I earned your trust yet?"

"Not quite, I still have more questions." Ever cautious, Shoryu wanted to make sure he knew everything before putting faith in this stranger. His father coming back after all these years was a miracle. In Shoryu's experience, things that looked too good to be true usually were. Fortunately his father humoured him.

"Fire away," he said.

"Why summon Kyoh the other day? He didn't come out when I tried; you were already using him."

"That was intentional. Taking your dragon into that fight would've likely got him killed. Unlike you, he doesn't have an Alpha Gene to save him from certain death. I made sure he didn't interfere with what was about to happen."

There it was; Shoryu found his hand hovering over his one remaining sword in an instant. "You _planned _my Alpha Gene activating?"

"Not directly, no. I've been watching your camp for about a week now. I noticed your Alpha Gene hadn't awoken, so when I saw the Hidden Stone's battalion incoming I wanted to see what you would do."

"You left my life and my men up to that stupid mutation?" demanded Shoryu. "_Anything _could've happened!"

"No." Shoichi shook his head. "I've seen the gene manifest more than a few times. It happens in all cases without fail. If I ever thought even for a second that your life was truly in danger I would've wiped those ninja out myself."

"Still, you were nowhere to be seen after it activated – it wasn't going to save my life a second time." said Shoryu, still wary of the man.

"You wanted me to show up and ruin your special moment?" Laughing, Shoichi rocked back and clutched his heart as if it burned. "After that kiss!? What kind of parent would I be if I stole the limelight then? Seriously, that was tear-jerking son. Bravo for that one."

In spite of his anger Shoryu felt his cheeks prickle with embarrassment. "You were watching!?" he demanded.

"Of course I was! Kyoh and I observed the fight from a safe distance. In fact we were about to jump in ourselves but your Raikage beat us to it. You made some powerful friends while I was away."

Silently fuming, Shoichi took a moment to collect his thoughts as his father still chuckled. Around them fireflies began to gather. The clearing brightened with the emergence of a hundred stars overhead. The leaves rushed against the trees and nightjars chimed in the ambiance. Usually Shoryu would enjoy himself on a night like this – kindle a campfire, gather his friends and steal some sake from some older Jonin. Tonight was just a confusing medley of conflicting emotions.

"Anything else?" Shoichi asked him.

At his father's prompt Shoryu remembered his other question. "One more: I can understand your disappearance – keeping me and mom safe and all," Shoryu went on, "but why return now? What could be so important that you came out of hiding for?"

"Glad you asked," Shoichi indulged him, "I received word from a trusted contact of mine that Teijo is somewhere here in the ninja world. If he's left Magnus Sanctum he's vulnerable – it's a chance to end this war. More than anything I'm here for your help, Shoryu. I can't hope to win if it's just me."

The news took Shoryu by surprise; until now they'd never found a solid lead on the Senmatsu. This was the chance Cloud had been waiting for. "Where in the ninja world?"

Shoichi looked abashed. "I don't know," he admitted. Just as his son was about to lecture him on the vastness of all five nations combined he added, "_However_ – I also know that my sister, Yasu, is on her way here right as we speak. She will know where he is, and I plan to extract that information from her."

The Jonin considered; the way his father said 'extract' implied torture. A harsh method to resort to, but this was Teijo – the key to the war. He could spare no room for moral conundrums.

"Why would she come here?" asked Shoryu. "Something tells me she isn't the 'visiting friends' type."

"Oh she isn't," Shoichi assured him. "She's here on a vendetta. My source tells me she learned that the man who killed her daughter is in your squadron."

"Seriously? Apparently Madoka didn't seem to care when Kazuya killed _her _daughter."

"Yasu is different. She's been corrupted by my father's ideals like the rest of them, but she doesn't adhere to them completely," Shoichi explained. "Whether she likes it or not, there's definitely some human left in her. I've tried reaching out to her a few times, but Teijo is her twin brother. She'll take his word over mine no matter his faults."

"Hmm." It occurred to Shoryu that they might be able to recruit another powerful ally. Then again, if his father had no luck talking her around she might be lost cause. The loss of a child was too great an incentive for revenge – so very cliché. It was upon thinking this that another thought struck Shoryu. The shoe seemed to fit.

"Wait, what's her full name? It isn't Senmatsu right?" he asked.

Shoichi shook his head. "Yasu Honami. She married; but then again I think Teijo is controlling her husband at this point – if he's still alive that is."

_Honami, of course it is_. Shoryu palmed his face and let out a groan. "Her daughter – the one who died. It wouldn't happen to be _Kamiko_ Honami would it?"

"Sure was. Why?"

"Your contact might be a little inaccurate. It's not a man she's after, it's a girl," said the ninja.

"You know her?"

Shoryu gave his father a long, blank stare. It took him a few seconds, but eventually Shoichi got the message. Watching his face as the gears turned made the boy cringe; it was exactly how he would react. The older man's eyes lit up and he flapped his hands like an impatient schoolboy desperate to answer a question.

"NO WAY! _Kissing girl!?_ That same one!?" he cried.

"Her name is Ayako," said Shoryu. "And yes, the very same."

Shoichi's sudden, prolonged laugh was like a slap in the face. Shoryu could do nothing more than stand there and take it; it was an odd coincidence after all – he had to grant him that.

"You really know how to pick 'em don't you?" Shoichi mocked him.

"So you're telling me a super powered relative of ours is on her way here right as we speak so she can murder Ayako in cold blood?"

Shoichi took a moment to think. Then: "Oh yeah. I suppose I am."

Oblivious to his father's protests, Shoryu turned and bolted into darkness. Strained sounds behind him told him Shoichi was following behind; trying to lose him would take up valuable time – and besides, the backup was appreciated. If he was as clever as Shoryu suspected he wouldn't reveal himself to the other ninja until Yasu arrived.

As he reached the town Shoryu ducked beneath a few streetlights and dashed down a back alley. Stopping for a second, he charged up the Raikyogan and surveyed the area around him, correcting his course. To the west the compact cluster of tiny light bulbs told him where their camp was. Shoryu scaled a house in two bounds, skidding down the slate before leaping to the next as a shortcut to the town's outskirts.

Smoke rose from the forest before him in five black plumes: campfires. Without a pause Shoryu ran into the evergreens. Spindly, wire-like branches whipped at his face as he shot through the woods in total pitch. Before long the blood he tasted on his tongue told him he'd been cut, but by then he was slowing to a jog and huffing into the first clearing, already out of breath.

Around him shadows shifted and an orange glow played on the half-dozen tents in a circle around the fire. Four ninja sat on logs eating broth and instant ramen – three of them Leaf Chunin on watch duty. Recognising the fourth, Shoryu ran over and got her attention.

"Hoshi!"

Groggy-eyed and slouched, the moment the raven haired girl saw Shoryu she leapt to her feet. "_Sir! _Good to see you're awake. Did anyone bring you up to speed on-"

"-Our ninja?" said Shoryu. Hoshi flinched. He'd almost forgotten about what Kazuya told him; all those they rescued had been taken by the false Alpha Gene, a result of their bodies rejecting the compound. "Yeah, they did," finished Shoryu.

"We all grieve for their passing, but after that surprise attack by the Stone we should return to the Cloud with all haste, _sir_."

Shoryu spared her a look of disdain; she was making him uncomfortable somehow. "Yeah. . . Of course. We'll head out first thing tomorrow."

"Anything else I can help you with, _sir?_"

"Alright stop that," said Shoryu – three times was more than enough. "Quit it with the 'sir'. We're old friends."

"Yes _sir_."

"You're still doing it."

"Am I _sir?_ I hardly even noticed," she replied.

"Wait, are you bitter about me outranking you now? Is that what this is?" said Shoryu, figuring he'd cracked it.

"I don't believe you can order me to share my private opinions, _sir_."

"No, I can't. But I _can _think up of some clever way to get you back for this. I have a mental list of ninja I need to repay. Now are you sure you want to be on it?"

"Aww, are you threatening me _sir? _I'm _so _scared," she jeered. As Hoshi exhaled Shoichi caught the scent of sake on her breath. She was too professional to get drunk on the job – but maybe she'd had just enough to challenge him.

"That's it, you're on the list. Just like that." Shoryu clicked his fingers. "Now as much as I'd love to continue this I need to find Ayako."

"I BET you do _sir!_" Hoshi cried, and at her jape the camp was filled with the roaring laughter of her and the remaining three Chunin.

Shoryu winced as he realised how it sounded. After the other day, him asking to see Ayako in the middle of the night was a blatant indicator of perverse intentions. As the ninja continued to laugh away Shoryu thought of exorcising his power and scolding them. Only then did he realise it was his pride at work; with the failure of the mission and the loss of fellow soldiers these ninja needed a boost in morale.

A laugh or two would do them wonders, even if it was at his expense. Putting his hand behind his head, Shoryu did his best to look flustered as he chuckled along with them.

"Alright alright, you got me," he said. "Throw me a bone would you?"

"_Waaaaaaayyy!_" cheered one of the ninja, clearly drunker than he ought to be. "You enjoy yourself commander!"

"Just through those trees _sir_." Hoshi motioned to their right. "You should recognise the tent."

With a mocking bow of courtesy Shoryu assured the four he was in their debt and headed off to find Ayako. The Jonin cringed as they called jokes after him, some cruder than others.

As the light of the fire receded behind him Shoryu found himself stumbling through darkness once again. He looked around; his father was nowhere in sight, perhaps he'd lost him in his crazed run for the camp? The boy shook his head – whatever else he was, Shoichi was a good enough ninja to conceal his presence. He'd managed to hide himself from the Raikyogan back on the day Shoryu first activated it – perhaps by staying out of its hundred metre range. Shoryu put those thoughts from his mind as the trees thinned out to a clearing.

More swilling Chunin greeted him – six this time. At a second look however Shoryu noticed there were in fact seven ninja. Free sat alone against a tree, just barely illuminated by the ambers dancing from the centre. He was so distant and reserved that Shoryu realised he'd forgotten all about the young clone. The boy fulfilled his end of the bargain; despite a number of threats and a bucketful of mistrust from Shoryu himself. Free came through for them in the end – he couldn't have possibly known what would happen to those they rescued.

Making a note to speak with him later, Shoryu glanced around for any sign of Ayako's tent. Hoshi was right; he recognised it in a heartbeat. Rainbow stripes down the canvas and entrance made it distinct from the countless other identical tents in the squadron – a good idea considering how many ninja wandered into someone else's by mistake late at night. Shoryu wandered over and rapped three times on the door flap.

Ten seconds passed before he decided to knock again. Shoryu feared the worst until the sound of Ayako groaning awake put his mind at ease.

"Just a sec. . ." she mumbled.

Half a minute passed as the girl quickly got dressed. Pulling down the zips of the opening, she appeared in casual wear, her hair its natural blonde.

"Shoryu!"

Before he could even speak Ayako flung her arms around him. Smiling, Shoryu eased into the embrace, only seconds before she broke the hold and slapped him hard across the face.

"What were you thinking!?" she cried. "You scared me half to death!"

"First of all, _ouch_. Secon-" Shoryu never got to phrase his 'second of all' before Ayako pressed a finger to his lips and pulled him into a deep, romantic kiss by the fire. Shoryu immediately forgot what he was about to say; this was far more enjoyable. Just as he thought he was getting the hang of it Ayako pulled back again, this time clobbering him with a savage right hook that sent him sprawling to the ground.

"Don't _ever _do anything like that again!" she ordered him.

"Would you make your mind up already!?" complained Shoryu, nursing a glowing cheek. "I've heard of 'mixed signals' but this is a bit extreme don't you think!?"

"Hey, I'm not the one being unfair! You run out there all 'scooooooore!' like an idiot – made us leave you for dead – and now you show up in the middle of the night like nothing ever happened? Planning to get what you want before you run off to die again? Well I'm not that kind of girl Shoryu."

"Seriously, why does everyone keep assuming I'm after that?" mused the boy, slowly getting to his feet. Around him he noticed the stares of the ninja on watch; Ayako didn't seem to mind much – humiliating him was nothing if not amusing. "Can I talk to you for a moment? In private," he said.

"Oh you'd love that wouldn't you?"

"Not half as much as you."

Ayako stepped forward, leaning in close. For a moment Shoryu wondered whether she was about to kiss him again before a graceful sweep of her leg sent him back to the pines. Hunger made him slow – normally the move would be easy enough to dodge for him, but no food for three days made Shoryu devoid of energy.

"Pay close attention guys," he mumbled weakly to the rest, tasting dirt, grass and blood on his tongue. "The girl who can kick your ass is the only one you need."

"Smartest thing you've said so far," she grumbled.

"I sure hope you've got everything out of your system. I'm not sure my body can take much more punishment. Plus I _really _need to talk to you."

Ayako turned, folding her arms as she made a face. Clearly his smart remarks did little to abate her anger. Shoryu sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry for ordering your retreat. It was reckless and stupid of me and I won't ever do it again. You win."

That seemed to work. With a jerk of her head Ayako ushered him inside the tent, making no move to help him up. Shoryu struggled back to his feet, took a glance around and shrugged to the ninja, still stifling chuckles at his romantic misfortune.

Inside the tent a spectrum of colours awaited Shoryu. Paint and scraps of parchment were stacked in nearly every free space around Ayako's bedroll. Two hand-fashioned desks and a mirror were the only units in sight. A lantern hung from the curved roof; Shoryu had to duck beneath it to pass before taking a seat on a folding chair – the only one in the room. Ayako meanwhile had already assumed her place on her bedroll, stretching and making herself comfortable so that Shoryu could admire every curve. _Is that intentional?_ He wondered; he never could tell with her.

"I'm glad you're alright," she whispered at last. It was reluctant and begrudging, but Shoryu figured she meant it.

"Listen to me," he told her. "It'll take more than a few hundred ninja to stop me in my tracks. All the shinobi armies in the world couldn't keep me from you. As for the Senmatsu, their days are numbered. They'll regret ever giving me this power - I'm going to use it to annihilate them."

Ayako paused, taken aback by Shoryu's sudden confidence. There was a conviction to his words that never existed before – a sense of purpose where there was once confusion and doubt. He believed in every word he said, and so did she.

"I know some bravado and a few cheesy lines won't make up for the other day, but-"

"-But it's a start." Ayako got up and made her way over, taking a seat on Shoryu's lap without stopping to ask permission. She stared at him for a moment, as if testing him, and then kissed him once again before he could make the first move.

Suddenly Shoryu decided to hold off on telling her about Yasu. It would kill the atmosphere for one. Normally that alone wouldn't be enough to keep his conscience from acting, but he couldn't help that feel with her so close by, nothing could ever hope to harm her. They were safe here.

"You're really light, you know that?" Shoryu said as they parted.

"Quit acting tough."

The Jonin winced, holding up his hands. "No punches this time?"

"Don't tempt me." Leaning in again, Ayako's eyes suddenly found the twin strokes racing up Shoryu's neck, markings left by the Kanzen Raikyogan – tiny grooves in his skin. She rocked away from his kiss and inspected them further. Shoryu merely grumbled in disapproval as she trailed a finger down one. They were hardly visible from a distance, but to anyone within arm's reach they stuck out like a sore thumb.

"My mother always used to warn me about guys with tattoos," she teased.

"It's not a tattoo," insisted Shoryu. He craned his neck to see himself in the mirror; between the neck and the arms they looked worse than he feared. "How the hell am I going to hide these anyway?"

Ayako shrugged, taking his arm in her hand and inspecting. "Well, long sleeves and gloves for these ones. As for the up here, high collars?"

"Great, I'll be the only shinobi on the battlefield who looks like he fell straight out of the last war. Or worse; a vampire," said Shoryu.

"Hey, it might be your only option."

The boy sighed again as he realised she was right – it was that or a scarf, hardly practical in summer. "Pirate Kazuya and vampire Shoryu," he said to himself. "At what point did we stop being ninja?"

"We didn't, you're just being vain." Following the Raikyogan grooves down to his elbows, Ayako added, "shirt off, I want to see the whole thing."

"Me too. You first."

A playful shove put Shoryu in his place.

"You sure? You know I'm still not fully healed right?"

Ayako nodded silently.

"Alright then, you asked for it."

The girl leaned back for a moment so Shoryu could pull off his shirt, wincing as he stretched his shuriken-mangled shoulder to an awkward angle. Scabs and bruises painted most of his torso, but save for the scorch in his side he found himself relieved that they weren't too hideous to gaze upon. Ayako didn't appear to care anyway; they'd all received wounds in the past. After four years at war even the most delicate were hardened to such sights.

The markings of the Raikyogan etched a symmetrical pattern across Shoryu's entire upper body. On the chest a curving array like a skewed butterfly was the most extravagant, but equally impressive designs covered his shoulders, biceps, forearms and stomach, always the same on both sides. Most noticeable of all were the lightning bolts atop Shoryu's hands, the left one warped by the scar left by Kouta Renazawa's spiked gloves in the Chunin exams.

Ayako traced a finger down one of the lines, following it all the way to his gut.

"How far do these go?" she asked him.

"They end at my waist," he said. "So not quite far enough."

Ayako shoved him again with a smile. "So what's it like then? When it activates?"

"Strange. It's not just the sight. You get this kind of feeling; you can feel the life forms of everything around you, all these little jabs at your consciousness," he explained, making gestures with his hands like an academy sensei. "That and your reflexes get awfully fast. More than once I forgot it was activated and hit myself in the face, so it's probably not as awesome looking as I thought it was."

"So can you switch it on when you like?" Ayako prodded him.

"I think so, yeah. Why? You want a demonstration?" Shoryu asked.

"Yes please!" Hopping off the boy, Ayako retreated a few paces and looked on in anticipation. For a moment Shoryu figured they were young ninja again, eagerly trading their coolest jutsu in a bid for the other's affections. He didn't mind so much; the Kanzen was nothing if not spectacular.

The Jonin looked around for something to demonstrate with. Eventually his eyes found the lantern swinging to and fro above them. He stood up and loosened the knot, freeing the light from its string so he could hold it aloft.

"Observe." Shoryu flipped it over and opened the casing to display the batteries. With his nails he then pulled them out, plummeting the two of them into darkness. He saw only a vague outline of Ayako before him, but all that changed with the next two words.

"_Kanzen Raikyogan._"

Starting at the bolts on his hands blue light spread upward, slowly engulfing the patterns on his arms and body like a charging generator. There was even a low hum as tiny slithers of lighting started to bounce from his skin. They subsided as the blue reached his eyes, morphing them into twin glowing orbs, each the nebula of an electrical storm.

Before Shoryu the kunoichi appeared in a haze of azure night-vision, her structure comprised of an endless stream of bioelectricity. It was her life-force itself, presented to him in countless crossroads of intersecting rivers. Where the currents darkened he saw the major pockets of electricity – places he could strike with a thunderous charge for a crippling effect.

Without saying a word the ninja then placed his first finger on the lantern, right where the batteries were a few moments ago. In an instant there was light as the bulb flickered back to life.

"Tadaa."

From the corner of the room Ayako clapped excitedly.

The ninja give a twirl, showing her every side of it as he grinned in self-satisfaction. "How badass is this!? I look incredible!"

"You look _terrifying_," stressed Ayako, unable to maintain eye contact with the soulless blue spheres. "Your mom's going to freak out!"

"Oh yeah. Forgot about that one." Shoryu shrugged; he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Keeping his finger on the metal conductor, Shoryu left the transformation active until he'd slotted the batteries back into place. Seconds later the blue faded, his skin draining back to its original colour. Shoryu hung up the light and parked himself beside the girl.

"I guess now might be a good time to tell you what's going on. To tell you the truth these last few hours have been pretty hectic," he said.

"Oh yeah, didn't you say you had something important to tell me?"

Shoryu nodded, wondering where the hell to start. He began with their most immediate threat – that her life was in danger as the mother of her fallen foe was about to return for vengeance. He told her all about Yasu Honami, assuring her at least five times that there was no need to worry. They'd already slain a few Senmatsu; one on her own would be no match if she stormed their camp. Even with Reizo gone, powerful ninja were still gathered here.

"Wait." Ayako recoiled suddenly, rocking back to the corner. "So there's a madwoman on her way to kill me, and you only just mentioned this _now_?"

"We were having a moment!" Shoryu protested. "You looked so comfortable on my lap back there!"

After a laugh at his desperate ploy Ayako replied, "So who told you all this?"

"Ah. See that's the thing." Awkwardly Shoryu reached up and scratched his head. "Turns out my father is alive – looks like he's on our side too."

"For real?"

"Yeah. I'll introduce you to him later."

"Did he ask for his coat back yet?"

"Nope, but I imagine he will."

"Why's that?"

"Because I would," Shoryu explained. "It's infuriating how much he acts like me – which makes no sense! I never even met the guy!"

The kunoichi shrugged. "Maybe it's genetic?"

"Ugh, I never want to hear that word again in my life," Shoryu groaned.

"Wimp."

"Yeah, that's me, total wimp." A slight stretch made a dull throb from Shoryu's abdomen – the Fireball Jutsu that roasted his side. Making for his shirt, the boy turned his body to reach the chair. Ayako slapped his hand away.

"I didn't say you could put it back on," she said, grinning devilishly.

"It's cold."

"So deal with it."

Another kiss made Shoryu decide he didn't need his shirt after all; what was he thinking?

"Speaking of cold, that reminds me – there's something else," he said. Fujiko's last moments still played on his mind, probably the single most haunting, tragic memory he'd ever sat through. He wondered how his friend must be feeling. "When I woke up at the hospital Kazuya was there."

Ayako's expression suddenly changed to remorse. "How is he? I know Fujiko is one of the only ones still alive."

"_Was_," Shoryu corrected her. "Kazuya did it himself. Said she wanted a warrior's death. I don't know how he managed it – takes way more courage than anything I've got."

Gasping, the girl clasped a hand over her mouth as if shielding herself from the horror of such a scene. Neither of them knew Fujiko very well, but Kazuya only ever brightened when they mentioned her name. The fact that she strived to be the first female samurai made them respect her even more; no doubt she was a very special woman.

"That's awful," muttered Ayako. ". . .Poor Kazuya. . ."

"I know. You should've seen him Ayako," said Shoryu. The tears of the Taisho were hardly something he was likely to forget. "It's rare to see anything faze the guy, but this – it might have just destroyed him. After Bishamon. . . I'm not sure how much emotional damage a man can take before he's lost forever."

"Do you think he'll be okay?"

"I don't know," Shoryu confessed. "Part of me wants to say he'll bounce back like he always does. But he's my best friend – I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about him."

Ayako huddled closer and put her arm around the boy, resting her head in the crook of his neck. "It isn't fair, none of this is."

"I don't ever want to see that again, it's more than I could take." He paused, looking down at her. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"I swore to be the Raikage one day Shoryu. I'm not after your protection."

"That's true."

As she glanced up to him Shoryu found himself drowning in the oasis pools of her eyes. Ayako smiled her sweetest and buried her head closer, whispering, "But I'm glad you're concerned all the same."

For a while the two of them sat there in the low light, never moving nor saying a word. Shoryu suddenly wished the dawn would never come – that the war could be damned so he could sit here forever; it was far cosier than any bed. After a time one of them began to get sleepy. In just fifteen minutes Ayako had already drifted off.

Shoryu meanwhile couldn't sleep; he'd been out for nearly three days - what he needed more than anything was sustenance. Seeing a kettle by Ayako's bedside unit, the boy flipped it on and grabbed a cup from her backpack. Throughout pouring himself some tea Shoryu never moved or leaned too far forward, using his feet and stretching as far as he could whenever necessary. With Ayako soundly asleep on his shoulder he didn't dare move in case she woke. Grinning to himself, Shoryu figured it was just another stealth exercise.

A noise from far away made him finish his brew in three burning gulps and softly shake Ayako awake.

"Hm?"

"Shh," he hissed, "do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" returning back to the real world, Ayako shook out the sleep and glanced around the room.

The faint sound of running water echoed around the tent. Ayako heard it too when she stopped to listen. A far-off river trundled in the ambiance, but there was no river here; the closest drinking gulley was a half mile south. As Shoryu got up to inspect the sound he noticed something else – a single gimlet of water seeping in beneath the tarp of the tent, flowing down the incline of the floor and branching off into separate paths along the creases.

At the same time Shoryu and Ayako both looked to the roof. Pattering and dark spots normally indicated rain, and yet the ceiling was blank; the only other sound outside was the high whistle of the wind above them.

"This better not be another one of Yuudai's stupid pranks," said Ayako.

The girl's suggestion suddenly triggered a memory within Shoryu – of just a few weeks ago when they met Free for the very first time. The clone had shown them a family tree of the Senmatsu, indicating which possessed the Alpha Gene and how it manifested. Shoryu figured it could be paranoia, but in an instant he was convinced one of them had been the Water Style. Was it Yasu? Shoryu counted off all the other family members they knew of. His father's was summoning, Kamiko's was Taijutsu, Kiyoshi's was his Sharingan, Teijo had Genjutsu and Shoren made the Clones. Were there any other Alpha Gene users left?

Around them the gushing of the tide grew louder and louder until it resembled a nearby waterfall. Something was coming their way for sure; it was too much of a coincidence. Yasu was here, Shoryu was suddenly certain of it. His hand dropped to his belt, an instinctual check to make sure his shorter sword still hung there. Holding it tight, Shoryu turned to the girl.

"Ayako?" he asked her.

"Yeah?"

"Can I _please _put my shirt back on now?"

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Finally back to the plot! My apologies for it taking so long to get here, it's just that my other story is in its closing stages at the moment so I've been trying to focus on that as much as I can. It'll work out better for Legacies in the long run though; I'll have way more time to work on it once I get DBAF finished.

Having said all that, surprisingly enough I made myself put a crapload of hours and effort into this chapter. When I penned out that last scene it basically bottled down to Shoryu running in and going "Ayako! My crazy auntie is after you!" When I got around to writing it however I quickly realised that just wasn't going to cut it after their last encounter.

Again, never written anything like that before. In at least half a million words of fanfiction alone I've avoided those kind of smooshy scenes like the plague. Romance isn't exactly my speciality, but recently Legacies is really going to all those emotional places I've never had the chance to visit before, and I guess all writers should strive for self-betterment. So yeah, I'm glad the plot has forced me to practice these.

Also, why does it seem to be a general rule in shonen anime/manga that relationships between teenagers are dealt with in stammers, blushes and awkward small-talk? I actually tried at first but I couldn't make it work that way, it's just too far from how these characters act. Ayako and Shoryu are best buddies before anything else – isn't that how good relationships work? I mean they've been at war together for four years, and they've always been pretty open with each other. Changing it now would just be silly.

Last thing I wanna mention is actually going back to the beginning – when Shoichi mentions Teijo is back on the mainland. Just to put things into perspective, this whole 'search and destroy Teijo' story arc is the last segment of Volume II. I don't know how many more chapters it's going to be exactly yet – roughly. . . Six or seven? Don't quote me on that though, I never seem to stick to these plans. It could be shorter and it could be longer, we'll see how it goes.


	39. Chapter 39 Desperate Assault

Chapter 39: Desperate Assault

Out in the open Shoryu pulled down his black tee and drew his one remaining sword. Most ninja in the clearing were already alert, glancing around to try and discern the water's source; those that weren't quickly followed suit as the two Cloud ninja prepared for battle before their eyes. Free joined in too, having leapt up from his little alcove in the tree the second he heard the current.

Around the three of them the rookie Leaf ninja muttered fear and paranoia to each other. Young and merry from booze, they made finding their target a chore. With excitable whispers at every angle Shoryu had difficulty focusing.

"Quiet!" He showed a hand and put on his most commanding voice – the one he used when ordering troops. That seemed to work. In a heartbeat the Leaf's sentries were more scared of him than the foreign sound, and with near-silence Shoryu found himself edging towards the west. He laid flat on his stomach and pressed an ear to the earth.

"Shoryu I _really _don't think that's going to-"

"_Shh!_" Before Ayako could finish her sentence Shoryu hissed and put a finger to his lips to quiet her. Judging from her appalled look he figured he'd pay for it in some way later down the road, but for now her safety was more important.

Shoryu listened, keeping still as possible. Far beneath them he heard the movement of water, a sucking sound like an old boot submerged in a bog, yet to the west a flowing tide still lingered. From low down Shoryu could hear it better than before. It rushed closer and closer with every passing moment, until its volume indicated its true and terrible size.

The Jonin sprang back to his feet. "_To the trees!_" he cried, moments before flecks of rolling water started to appear beyond the firelight.

At Shoryu's command the small handful of ninja jumped to the supple branches above the camp. Those not spry enough to reach simply dashed to the nearest tree and ran up its spine, sending chakra to their soles. In a half-second only two remained on the wooded surface, daring to take on the jutsu alone.

"_Move!_" Shoryu called to them.

The Leaf ninja stayed, no doubt regretting their decision once a fifteen-foot vanguard of thundering water dragons crashed through the trees like a charging stampede. Their plan was an understandable folly: by running at the wave the two ninja thought to use the water-walking technique to best it. Instead they ended up sprinting on an incline like fat students on a treadmill for whole two seconds before a liquid dragon pounced from the waves and wiped them both out.

As the water consumed the campfire the pallid glare of moonlight became their only light source. The two ninja tumbled beneath the tide, quickly swept out of view; but Shoryu could still hear the sound of their bones breaking on the trees they passed. Nothing short of pot luck would save a man from death in that technique. The moment it swept someone away they were trapped in its stream.

"Don't try to walk on it!" Shoryu ordered. "That's not normal water!"

From the hanging treetops around him there was no reply; Shoryu could only pray that they heard him. Like a swinging monkey Free clambered down from the branches above them, dangling level with Shoryu and Ayako. Beside them a ninja screamed as the force of the waves uprooted his tree. He couldn't have been older than thirteen – an admirer of Hotaru judging by his hair. Shoryu cursed as the sea consumed him.

"Yasu Honami I take it?" he grumbled to Free.

"That would be the logical conclusion, yes," said the Clone.

Silence fell once more as the waves trundled into the night. Shoryu was the first to jump back into the clearing. Ayako followed shortly after, and within a few more seconds he heard four more footfalls as the ninja fell in. With a six-man cell the ninja formed a circle about their old fire, backs to each other as every pair of eyes watched the dark for any sign of the enemy.

"This is ridiculous!" said Ayako. "_Shading Jutsu: Crimson Candle!_"

Throwing up her arm the kunoichi released a cluster of glowing chakra spheres to the sky. Like a fountain they spread out in separate directions, sticking to the trees where they made contact. From there a clap of Ayako's hands was all it took to give them light. Catherine wheels spitting heat and red sparks flared up in the treetops, each a slow-burning flameless candle.

In an instant the sinister corners of the woods became illuminated bushes and harmless patches of nettle. There was nowhere else for Yasu to hide, and yet there was no sign of her anywhere. Shoryu thought of using the Raikyogan – but so early? He could find her with it easily, but Water was its only weakness. If he revealed his dojutsu before even finding her the battle would be a short one.

A racing shadow in Shoryu's periphery made him turn and draw as a ninja streamed from the trees. Ayako and Free were scared too; his movements were so fast they couldn't register his face until he stopped two feet away. Hotaru fell into formation beside them to provoke looks of relief from his followers. His arrival renewed their spirit, but not Shoryu's.

"Hey guys! What did I miss?" Hotaru asked.

"Are you kidding me? We're fighting water!" said Shoryu. "You're the 'Flame's Phoenix' - you're going to be more useless here than even me here!"

"I can hold my own!" insisted the boy.

"_Water Style: White Rapids Jutsu!_"

As if to test them a woman's voice called from the shadows as the crash of running water began anew. From the north a column of sharp white foam bolted from a gap in the trees, tearing apart twigs and hedges where it rushed through the forest. As a foaming cannon of liquid death the jutsu bore down on their formation, only Hotaru leapt in the way, his final tiger seal snapping shut to wreathe his arm in holy fire.

"_Fire Style:-_"

"_Don't!_" cried Shoryu.

"-_Suzaken!_" Burning orange and blazing out to a colossal fist, Hotaru's punch met the water with far more power than his size should have allowed. The result – as Shoryu predicted – was a muffled explosion as cloud after cloud of scalding steam fled the site of impact. Shoryu and the others found themselves gasping to the floor, chests burning after inhaling a lungful of boiling hot vapour.

Ninja left and right coughed for breath in the mist. The swirling fog only turned the campsite into a confusing labyrinth of scattered units, so thick that Shoryu could barely see Ayako three feet away – everyone else was consumed by it. Amidst the spluttering of various ninja one was suddenly cut off – his voice ended mid-cough, married to the sound of a sharpened blade running across flesh.

"Free!" Shoryu called out, suddenly reaching an idea. "_Free!_"

_I'm here Shoryu_.

The Jonin paused for a moment, getting used to the clone's telepathy again. It was useful if nothing else; even when he was out of sight Free could still contact him when necessary.

"Take the Chunin," Shoryu ordered, "find Hoshi. You two go around the camps and get as many people as you can the edge of the trees. If you come across Yuudai then send him here, but containing this battle is our first priority!"

_Understood_.

Just as the clone was about to set off the group noticed a figure through the meandering fog. Shoryu's sword was hardly raised before Yasu Honami was upon him, a rain of kicks and crazed punches forcing the ninja onto his back foot. A nonstop brine gushed about her feet, repelling the fireworks Ayako blasted her way so she could focus her attention on the leader.

After finding his back against a tree Shoryu went on the offensive. Using both hands he adopted a one-sword pose and shifted to a parry, swatting her hand away before thrusting his arms into a stab. The result was a disaster; Shoryu ended up putting too much weight on his left leg and tripping forward as he hopped to keep his balance. Yasu's elbow slammed hard into his back to keep him down.

"You're Shoichi's son aren't you?" she said to him. "It's not exactly hard to miss."

Shoryu knew what she meant. All the Senmatsu on his father's side seemed to share commonalities. In fact Yasu herself was the spitting image of her daughter Kamiko, with chestnut brown hair a shade lighter than Shoryu's own and the same sparkling green eyes, vibrant and unstable.

"I expected better from my own nephew," she said.

Springing back to his feet, Shoryu took up his sword and tried again. This time Ayako backed him up, shading green to mould her claws before swiping out thrice with the emerald blades. Yasu weaved away from all three, finishing with a graceful spin from Shoryu's clumsily obvious lunge. A heel to the back of his knee put the Jonin down once again.

"How are you this crap all of a sudden!?" cried Ayako.

"I can't fight with one sword!"

Yasu's attention fell to the girl before Hotaru plunged through the mist behind her. Twin trench-knives wheeled in savage circles as the Leaf's Jonin channelled fire chakra for the Flying Swallow technique. Tongues of flame licked the edge of his steel, attacks redirected or dodged by the Senmatsu prodigy.

Turning her back to Ayako was Yasu's first mistake though. Her splashing barrier might have been enough to repel the standard flares, but the advanced colours of the Shading Jutsu were another matter entirely.

"_Violet!_" With a clap of her hands and a helping of extra chakra Ayako's beam managed to punch through the waves, the residual impact being enough to knock Yasu off balance. Hotaru seized the chance; in a blink his daggers made a smouldering cross-cut across the brown flak jacket of the Senmatsu. With a flick of her wrist she doused it in retreat. Gasping for air, Yasu tore off the buttons and discarded her body armour.

"See! Told you!" insisted Hotaru.

As he struggled to his feet Shoryu paid little mind to his partner's boasts; Yasu's fingers were a blur of hand signs. In less than a second he counted a dozen, and he knew that with her Alpha Gene any technique was likely to be devastating. His fingers snaked around the loop of his shuriken before a voice echoed around his mind.

_Ninja Art: Pulse Jutsu!_

Free was back again, his jutsu tearing through the fog in a lilac wave of distorted air. From forming seals Yasu was hurled off her feet, interrupting whatever terrifying jutsu she had in store for them. Together Shoryu and Hotaru pounced after her through the veil of steam, only to find her missing once they arrived.

"Come on dad, any time now," Shoryu grumbled. "We need backup. Free, I told you to find Yuudai. We can hold her off but I don't know for how long."

Turning to the clone, Hotaru agreed. "Get Kazuya too. Let's see how she likes it when we freeze her jutsu."

"No, that won't be necessary." Shoryu shook his head as Ayako threw him a sideways glance, chewing her lip. He didn't want to involve Kazuya; not after what he'd been through today. Trying to get that across to the others proved difficult though. For once Shoryu found himself at a loss for words - should he tell them? Free and Hotaru looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Why not? The guy's our best bet!"

_Commander, strategically speaking Kazuya's abilities would_ _be the most advantageous against this kind of opponent_.

"I said no," Shoryu snapped at last. "We can handle this for now, we just need to sit tight and make sure we don't die."

_Very well then, I'll return once our ninja are safe. _Another wave of the clone's kinetic jutsu cleared a path through the steam. With a gesture he got the attention of Hotaru's two Chunin and ordered them to follow as he bounded once more to the treetops. The boy had barely left the battlefield when Yasu decided to continue.

"_Ninja Art: Hidden Mist Jutsu_."

Around them Hotaru's steam thickened into cloud. Swirling between the trio, the mist became such a hindrance that Shoryu could only feel Ayako's back pressed to his own; turning to look showed him only a few locks of her blonde hair.

Shifting in the cloud, shadows began to dance against the white backdrop, ghostly apparitions of Yasu. More than once Shoryu almost broke rank and dove after one without thinking, but that was no doubt the whole point of her technique. She was trying to divide them; separately she could dispatch the three much quicker than taking them on alone. Behind him Shoryu heard the chink of steel as Hotaru's knives repelled a shuriken. Bringing up his own, the Jonin quickly felt something hard and sharp rattle off the edge. When none of them took the bait Yasu changed her tactics.

From out of the mist a handful of figures streamed into view, fists raised in attack. Shoryu turned and arched himself as low as possible, spinning around to evade the move and swinging his sword at the same time, drawing it up the sternum of his attacker as he felt the steel cut through water. Slashed in two, for a moment the clone hung in a static death-frame, carved down the shoulder by a shower of clear liquid before it lost its shape and fell to a puddle on the ground.

"Water Clones!" Shoryu called through the fog, knowing Ayako and Hotaru had no doubt discovered it already.

A swing of his sword and a chakra injection loosed the Air Slash. Shoryu's arc of sharpened wind blasted through five feet of fog, slashing two clones across the torso in a spraying fountain of water. The Jonin hurled a hopeful shuriken straight after it, grinning in delight as he heard it cut through another clone.

With his battle over Shoryu backpedalled until he found Ayako and Hotaru again.

"Damn mist, we can't see a thing!" cursed Ayako.

"I've got this," Shoryu offered. Five hand signs followed until his jutsu ripped into existence. "_Wind Style: Galeforce Jutsu!_"

As an eight foot tornado Shroyu's technique spiralled from his fingertips, set off like a spinning top to rage on a random course before them. It ate up the cloud like a titan after cotton candy, sweeping up clumps of the fluffy haze as it went, vacuuming them to its swirling core. Unfortunately Yasu's jutsu seemed to self-sustain itself; just a few moments after clearing space the mist would stretch and fill any gaps he created.

"Nice going," said Hotaru.

"Yeah well at least I tried! By all means, go ahead and use Fire Style again – it worked _so _well last time!"

"Don't make me come back there," said Ayako. "just focus. We only need to find the real one. Shoryu, I believe you have a thing for that?"

"You want me to transform?"

Ayako finally turned around to face him, dumbstruck at how childlike her boyfriend could be at the worst possible situations. "'Transform'? _Really?_"

"I won't settle for calling it anything less! No point having a super badass ninja transformation if you can't call it one!"

"Yeah he's got a point there." said Hotaru.

"You two are _such _idiots, just use it already!"

"Fine!" Taking two steps forward, Shoryu cleared the space around him and sent chakra in a slow build-up to his eyes. "_Kanzen Raikyogan!_"

The effect began immediately, a glowing blue filling the mystic designs etched into Shoryu's torso. Through the black fabric of his shirt the light shone as symmetrical markings made a pattern behind his outfit. As the glow reached his eyes Shoryu glanced down at the strange new look and smiled. He turned to the others.

"Just out of interest which looks better? Shirt on or off?"

"_Water Style: Surface Slicer!_"

Before he could get an answer Yasu's attack forced Shoryu to dodge. From the ground by his feet the rocks parted, split in two by a jet of water shooting in a crescent up to him. A burst of energy to his legs let him avoid the backsplash, but Yasu made the effort to intercept. Geysers burst from potholes in the floor at every direction like a fleet of armed missiles, too hot to even approach without feeling the sting.

To make matters worse half a dozen water clones joined in the fight, liquidized from the excess water bursting from the ground. Shoryu quickly found himself hopping around to avoid the jutsu like the floor was on fire, avoiding the clones with every movement; slaying them with shuriken and Air Slashes where he could. Getting too close to them would be a mistake; upon death they went up like a water balloon, and it only took a splash to make his Raikyogan backfire.

Fortunately backup arrived as one of Yasu's Surface Slicers gushing to Shoryu's right was suddenly blocked by a pale shield of yellow chakra. Ayako streamed back through the mist, tearing up a clone with a single hack of her emerald claws before spearing a second through a tree by clapping her hands. She turned, her clothes and hair dripping wet – Shoryu couldn't stop himself staring.

"FIND HER!" said Ayako.

"Right! Right." Shoryu looked around. Yasu was far away enough to avoid his sixth sense, but by scanning every corner with his eyes he knew he could locate her; nothing hid from the Raikyogan. It took him a matter of seconds. The bioelectricity in her body showed him a blue exoskeleton in the distance that stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Got her!" As a lightning blue comet Shoryu ran at her location. She hid in a bush away from the battle, casting more and more jutsu as he neared. Soon the Jonin was dashing left and right off each foot, with sideways arcs and vertical pillars of water ravaging the forest floor to block his path. With every step he made progress – even more so once Hotaru generated steam behind him to throw off Yasu's aim.

When Shoryu saw her through the trees he found himself at a loss as to what to do. Getting in close was ideal, but she still strung together hand signs and tore up the surface around him like paper – it could've been a trap.

_I can't use Wind Style and the Raikyogan in conjunction again – not until I've mastered it_. Shoryu wondered how his sensei would've used the Raikyogan, and on that thought an idea came to mind. He summoned bio-electricity, running it down the length of his left arm and firing it in a bolt at a nervous cluster in her stomach.

"_Lightning Javelin!_"

Yasu leapt up to the first branch of the tree, the spear glancing her foot as she streamed ahead. A yelp leapt out of her, but the rubber and plastic in her sandals kept the damage at a minimum.

"_Air Slash Jutsu!_"

From his single edge Shoryu released a curving current of wind. It severed the limb of the tree as Yasu bounced higher. The Jonin flipped open a shuriken and took aim, yet a tug at his psychic consciousness forced his attention elsewhere.

Shoryu swept his body into limbo as two clones rushed in from behind. A knife passed over his torso before he wheeled back and shocked it to steam with electric heat. After a flash of a throw the second one took his shuriken square between the eyes.

In the wake of his attack Yasu used the moment to fire another geyser at his feet. The rumbling beneath him gave Shoryu warning though; he hopped away before taking any damage, satisfied that he'd managed to avoid being drenched.

Yasu's next move only served to complicate things more. She descended back down to the surface, keeping her fingers fixed on a single seal. It was too good an opportunity to miss; she was practically inviting him to come and take a swing.

Shoryu set off as fast as the Raikyogan would let him, disappearing in a blue haze of bioelectric power as he made a beeline for his crazed aunt with sword raised and arm swathed in thunder. As he reached the ten-yard mark he suspected something was amiss; it was too easy. Surely she didn't think she could challenge him at close range combat? Shoryu skidded to a halt, but the Raikyogan guaranteed he was already travelling too fast to stop himself fully.

As his sandals grinded across the pines Shoryu saw the attack before it happened. The knowledge didn't make it hurt any less.

A small puddle, unsuspecting and easy to dismiss as unimportant, was positioned right in front of Yasu. Shoryu arched his arm and brought down the sword, but as his foot skidded into the puddle he found himself falling. It was a clever illusion; she'd simply fired a hole in the ground and filled it. The small pool consumed his whole right leg – the Raikyogan backfired.

Before he could even finish his swing Shoryu found his leg seizing in a sharp, agonising jolt. From his glowing, thunderous arm the electricity spread downward, engulfing his right side in a strip of pain like nothing he'd ever felt.

Shoryu dropped before he knew what was happening. His chin bounced off the earth as he grew faint from the crippling lightning. Before him his vision blinked in grey and blue, speckles and cracks filling it in an instant. A high-pitched sound screamed in his ears like amplified feedback from a microphone. With his head spinning Shoryu held out a hand to steady himself, but the movement itself only brought him more agony, tensing the muscles he'd shocked into seizure.

"_Shoryu!_" Ayako's voice called through the mist, distant and muffled.

"I. . ." Shoryu glanced around, hardly aware of his situation. It took him a while to remember where he was. "Wait, Ayako. . ?" He mumbled. Light faded from his palms as the Raikyogan switched itself off.

When he finally came around Yasu was stood over him, curved dagger in hand as she prepared to end it. Shoryu's half-hearted lunge for his sword was thwarted by her kicking it away. She grabbed a clump of his hair, yanking back his head and exposing his neck for her blade.

"_Red!_"

Still squinting through a drunken haze, Shoryu vaguely made out a firecracker streaming his way. The chakra sailed past his neck and struck Yasu across the shoulder. She recoiled a half-step; a storm of them followed. Deciding it would be wisest Shoryu dropped flat on his stomach as a dozen flares whirred overhead. In seeing the chance Hotaru ran in with blades ablaze. Even Yasu didn't want another steam shower; she backed off, drawing hand signs and watching on as the Leaf's Jonin slung Shoryu over his shoulder.

"Shoryu! Hey! Snap out of it! Come on man don't quit just yet!"

Hotaru was right – this was no place to get caught out. With a violent shake of his head Shoryu tried to shock himself back into reality. It worked in a way; he was more alert at least, but soon the world span around him in nauseating motions and he found himself only more aware of the agony raging up his side.

"_Water Style: Storm Upheaval!_"

Jumping in fright made another round of excruciating pain lance up Shoryu's arm. He and Hotaru glanced left to right, locking eyes with a bewildered stare as no jutsu came their way. Yasu sniggered in delight.

"Guys! Above!"

The sudden takeoff nearly gave Shoryu whiplash. Quick as a cat Hotaru launched them both out harm's way, with one powerful kick of his legs enough to propel them ten strides further into the forest. In a flash-flood water tumbled from an opening in the sky, a volume of waves so massive it would've crushed them beneath its weight had the boy not acted.

Like a freak storm the water kept coming and coming. Chest-high waves leapt from the centre and spread out into the woods, tearing apart more than half the trees on its arrival. Being smart enough to avoid walking on it, Hotaru darted to the thickest spruce he could see with Shoryu over his shoulder. He parked the Cloud ninja down in the crook of two branches once he figured they were high enough.

Soon the pool rose to the height of a house from the forest floor. Yasu stood on the twisting waves, smiling as they consumed footholds by the second. Only she could stand up here; Shoryu only needed to look at the water to see her chakra at work. Tiny, easy to miss whirlpools on the surface seeped a dark froth as they battled each other. The current would fight against the water-walking technique, sucking in any ninja brave enough to step foot on the surface.

Satisfied that Shoryu and Hotaru were out of the way, Yasu finally turned her attention to Ayako, stood atop an opposing tree across the river from them. The kunoichi shaded colour and steadied her hands, ready to clap into battle at the slightest movement.

She never needed to.

A vague shuffle of water from afar was the only precursor to Yuudai's entrance. The boy surfed on the foreign waters, arriving in speed with a jumping right hook from behind. The punch laid out Yasu immediately; with a single shot the Cloud's favourite water expert sent the Senmatsu plummeting cheek-first into her unnatural ocean and out sight.

"_WOO!_" Yuudai never stopped moving, not even for a second. He only glided around the surface of the water using his signature jutsu. Even after four years Shoryu had no idea how he did it; with his feet perfectly still the boy generated a current beneath him, making it look as though he was constantly being pulled along by some invisible jet-ski.

"I heard you were having a party without me!" he called to the others.

Before Shoryu could answer back a noise beside him caught his attention. His father had arrived, making his way to their tree whilst their attention was elsewhere.

"Sorry I'm late," he grinned, motioning to the kid sailing around the forest. "I thought it might be a good idea to fetch your resident water user. Can't use it myself, but I'm going to need it to defeat her. You don't mind if I take all the glory this time do you?"

"Can't-. . ." Sickness married the confusion as Shoryu's head started to spin like he'd downed a whole bottle of sake. His every muscle tingled in numbness, launching into unbearable pain if he moved. "Knock yourself out," he mumbled at last.

"With pleasure." By the time he finished speaking Shoichi's fifth hand-sign was struck. The ninja slapped the bark at his feet; circles of oil draw fingers across the air and smoke bloomed over the rapids. "_Summoning Jutsu!_"

From the quilt of mist a monster emerged, long and lean and scaled from nose to tail in a deep bronze hue. Yellow eyes complete with thin, reptilian slits blinked open as the beast menaced Yasu with a glare. Like Yuudai, the three-metre crocodile could sit atop her chakra-infused water without problem, too heavy to be pulled in by its current.

From the rafters of the tree Shoichi leapt aboard, finding himself a sturdy crook at the nape of the creature's neck. He kneeled tickled its shoulders, petting the predator like one would a household pet.

"Ready for a fight Syrak?"

A growl from the gator's throat assured Shoichi he was. Beneath him Syrak shuddered with excitement, the bass from his snarl rumbling the ground at the ninja's feet.

"You think you can beat me brother?"

Growing bored of the build-up Yasu emerged once again. Like a sea-spirit her head rose first from the jutsu, gliding up and into stance as the dark water flowed off her to re-join the unnatural current. Her expression showed a rage unfitting of her appearance; a scowl hiding everything that once made her pretty. She threw back her hair and guffawed, as if the very idea of challenging her was ludicrous.

"You're way in over your head if you think you can beat me on this plain."

"You know I disagree," said Shoichi, taking a seat at the crown of the crocodile as he delved into his theory. "I think you rushed in here without thinking. Sure, you've got your jutsu, but to maximise your Alpha Gene's efficiency you need to be by a body of water. You could've hidden, then killed anyone you liked as they bathed - that would've been the smart move. Instead you charged a camp containing maybe half a dozen of the most powerful ninja of this generation. This is more than you can handle. Hell, these guys don't need me to beat you. I'm just trying to earn my keep."

Laughing even more, Yasu shook her head. "Teijo was right about you. You're spineless; weak. You've been off the grid for over a decade, and only now do you come back in defence of the woman who murdered my daughter."

"Hey wait! That's not right at all!" said Ayako, suddenly shouting from the tops of the distant tree. "I didn't _murder _anyone! Your daughter was being controlled!"

A momentary flinch was the only sign of doubt on Yasu's face. After that she reverted to her frown. "Liar," she said.

"You knew about this," Shoichi judged, deducing much from the split-second gap in her pokerface. "Or you at least suspected as much. You knew Kamiko better than any – she didn't want any part of this war. And you also know Teijo, better even than me; he's not the kind of man to let an asset so valuable go to waste. You're in denial!"

"_Enough!_" A sudden shockwave of water brought their battle of words to an end. It wasn't even a jutsu; the water at her feet seemed to almost _react _to her anger. Raising his arms, Shoichi shielded himself as the five-foot wave splashed him to his senses. Only by directing chakra to his feet did he stay atop Syrak.

This was bad; Shoichi knew he couldn't talk sense into her if she'd stopped thinking. Yasu blinded herself from the truth of things and decided on blind loyalty to the family. His only course of action was simple: he would force her eyes open to reason.

"You can sit there and talk poison about my brother until the sun comes up or you can fight me," said Yasu. "It's your call Shoichi, but know that if you get in my way I'll destroy you."

"Yeah. . ." Shoichi sighed; he'd hoped to avoid a confrontation. His sister's arrogance made him weary. Slowly and deliberately the ninja got back to his feet, avoiding eye contact until finally addressing her directly. "I'm sorry sister, but that's just not going to happen."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Hey guys! Long time no see.

Again this chapter was mostly about Shoryu and Shoichi. Part of it was seeing just how vulnerable Shoryu is in his current condition. He's still wounded and has only one sword so the Raikyogan was his only trump-card, one that gets completely nullified by Yasu's Water Style. Think we've only seen the Raikyogan overload once or twice before, but yeah I imagine it's like taking a few seconds in a high-voltage electric chair - not much of a pleasant experience. It's not really something you could carry on fighting with after it happens.

Shoichi meanwhile is being clever. His primary goal in going back to the Land of Lightning was to fight Yasu, but by doing it in front of Shoryu and company he's trying to earn their trust as an ally. It's funny that Shoryu sent away Free to get Yuudai, then Shoichi turned up with him five minutes later after having the exact same idea. I imagine Free is running around the forest at this point wondering where the hell he is.

On a final note, I realised the other day that this Volume totally conforms to Shonen manga tradition - by total accident no less. You know there's that trope where the characters fight their battles in order of power with the protagonist going last? Well first we had Ayako vs. Kamiko, then Kazuya vs. Madoka, then Shoichi vs. Teijo. If you think about it Shoryu - despite being in at least half a dozen fights - hasn't actually had a one-on-one fight at all since the timeskip. Bit of food for thought there :D


	40. Chapter 40 The New Recruit

Chapter 40: The New Recruit

A tap of Shoichi's heel was all it took to send the crocodile racing forward. Syrak's tail waved a muscular oar as his legs pedalled through the water like it was air. Faced with the incoming reptile and the ninja above it Yasu skimmed the surface of the water in retreat, finding as Syrak passed her by that the rider had mysteriously vanished.

"_Wind Style: Squall Fang Jutsu!_"

Like a diving bird of prey Shoichi descended from above. His fingers clasped to a final seal with a hurricane raging from his aim. Yasu brought up an arm. A few hand signs and a simple water barrier kept the attack at bay, the collateral rolling up waves to break more evergreens under the weight of their oceanic battlefield.

Yasu smiled as the ninja resumed his fall; with his summon twenty yards away Shoichi plummeted towards his opponent, oblivious to the chakra-infused sea that would deny him any foothold. Once in arm's reach the ninja flared out a shuriken. Yasu met his attack with her own curved blade; a serrated edge dripping with water.

Steel clashed and sparks leapt to the pool. A puff of smoke made Yasu see her mistake; this Shoichi was a simple shadow clone, bursting out of existence with too hard a strike. Instead the real one approached from her flank, hopping over shin-high geysers courtesy of Yuudai as his stepping stones to reach her.

Another bloom of smoke saw the long dark blade in Shoichi's grasp. He met her in force, slashing out with a series of two-handed moves to force his sister on the defence. Swarmed by blades from Shoichi, Yasu blinded herself to the gator's enormous yawning mouth until its shadow formed at her feet.

"_Water Style: Ascending Twister!_"

Balance and control was everything when fighting alongside water users. Shoichi found himself struggling to stay upright, directing all concentration to his feet as a spiralling fountain of water shot him into the air. Yuudai intervened with a well-aimed jutsu; as Shoichi was hurled to the skies for safety Syrak clamped his jaws upon the enemy ninja and dragged her beneath the waves.

From his falling height above the trees Shoichi struggled to see what happened. Waves thrashed about their diving spot and bubbles married a helping of blood to give them a haunting effect. Only the vague shape of Syrak's body was visible underwater; Shoichi cringed as he span into a death-roll, keeping her away from the surface for as long as he could whilst simultaneously trying to shear her in two.

With his summon occupied though, all Shoichi could do was fall. He closed his eyes as the waves rose up to consume him, hitting the water with a sting behind his thighs before a clutch upon his wrist nearly yanked his arm out of place. Yuudai caught him perfectly; by the hand he dragged the older man around on his surfing jutsu, submerged underwater from the waist down.

It was then that Shoichi noticed something he suspected all along. The feeling from his legs was unmistakeable; he'd come across jutsu with similar effects. Yasu's water drained him of chakra by the second. Every moment he spent beneath the tide only gave her more and more energy.

Fortunately his luck changed when his sister re-emerged in a tsunami, her right side mauled by the serrated, arm-long fangs of the loyal crocodile. Syrak himself also resurfaced, having escaped the exchange with nothing more than a broken tooth.

Wasting no time, Yuudai used all his strength to fling Shoichi up and out of the water, aiming the ninja before him like a cannonball. From there three hand signs and a slap to the waves sent the older man flying. More seals from Yuudai followed as Shoichi flew through the air.

"_Water Style: Multi-Water Shot!_"

As Yasu raised her defences a firework of meandering water bullets swerved around her approaching brother. All at once they struck her shield, with at least five punching through the waves to shoot stinging holes into her flesh. Shoichi landed with an overhand slash, swinging the great katana like a baseball bat. A single dose of chakra gave the blade a mantle of wind.

In her pain the kunoichi made a dodge too late. Her knife snapped up, feeble and slow, but it saved her from being cleaved in two.

Instead Shoichi's sword cut through her weapon. A fountain of water chakra burst from the broken steel as Yasu tumbled back to the undertow, disappearing from sight just in time for Syrak to intervene and keep the falling summoner afloat.

The gator swam in rings around the pool, mirroring Yuudai's casual surfing in the opposite direction.

"Don't get careless!" said Shoichi. "This fight is ours if we keep our heads."

Just as Yuudai looked about to give a reply the enemy attack cut him off. Like a jumping dolphin Yasu pounced out of the water, trapping the boy with a grip around his neck as she speared him under the water.

"Yuudai!" said Shoichi. The ninja dropped to his knees and observed the water for any signs. Yasu got smart; Shoichi couldn't fight here without Yuudai, and the young Chunin was easy prey compared to her older brother. Bubbles trailed a path away from them, and for a moment Shoichi feared the worst before they splashed back to the surface.

Even then Yuudai's situation didn't improve. With her hand still clasped to his throat Yasu slammed him into a nearby tree. Water spluttered from his lips in convulsing heaves, and with his lungs in shock he could do nothing but drown as she resumed her attack.

"_Water Style: Hydro Cannon Jutsu!_"

A column of water to his chest sent Yuudai crashing through the tree – and the one after it. At point-blank range the high-powered jet broke ribs, flattened lungs and drew blood from the scalding red mark it left on his sternum. Adding that to the splintering pines slashing apart his back and Yuudai looked out for the count; he skimmed the water like a stone before grinding to a halt upon the waves and sinking out of sight.

Skipping across, Yasu closed on his location. She ducked into a dive after the boy, realising all too late that in her eagerness to finish the job she'd turned her back on Shoichi. The shuriken seared across her hip like a hot knife, wind chakra making sure her wound went deeper than it ought to. A scream followed and then a glare at her older brother. Then she dove.

Oblivious to the energy-sucking water, Shoichi knelt and took hold of two hand-sized ridges down Syrak's spine. He couldn't let the boy die; Shoryu would resent him forever if he did.

"Syrak, after her!"

"Understood."

With jaws open wide the reptile ducked to a dive as Shoichi found himself completely submerged in muscular aches. Right away he felt sleepy and weak, redoubling his grip on Syrak's bones with the huge volume of water resistance constantly trying to throw him off. Deeper and deeper the crocodile dived; Shoichi's ears blared from the pressure.

Trying to see ahead was a mistake too. In the split-second his eyelids opened the chlorinated water seeped into his sockets like lava, forcing a snarl of pain out of him before he shut them once more; he'd have to trust Syrak for this one.

Fortunately the gator came through. Beneath his feet Shoichi felt the summon's jaws clamp down on something. A few shakes and hard knocks indicated a fight. Shoichi kept his sword at the ready in case anything came too close. With a swift turn that almost threw him off Syrak was on his way up again, his jagged tail like a spiked, flapping rudder to keep any pursuers at bay.

As they returned to the light and the dry Shoichi was already throwing out hand signs. A lick of chakra onto his windmill shuriken saw the four-pointed star spinning above him as a rotary fan, drying off the residue of Yasu's draining technique as Shoichi rushed over to Syrak's open mouth.

Atop the creature's tongue with a surrounding garden of teeth lay Yuudai, flat out cold without the slightest flutter of breath. Shoichi grabbed the young man by the scruff of his collar, slung him up onto Syrak's back and followed up with a crushing right hand to his spine.

It was a harsh, but very effective method of treatment for victims of the water style. Yuudai immediately coughed back to life with a splutter of water choking from his lungs, Shoichi's punch driving him to the floor.

"You okay kid?" Shoichi asked, sparing no time to explain just how close he'd come to death. "You were down there a while. Tag out if you need to."

"Ugh. . ." After a second or two on his stomach to catch his breath Yuudai pulled himself back together. Yasu's chakra draining liquid did a number on his energy reserves, but Yuudai was always known for his endless supply; all of his jutsu relied on precise and efficient control.

"I'll be fine, let's just get this over with."

Yasu looked to have the same idea. Shadows of her shape and size began to grown beneath the deep blue hue of the augmented sea. Either she was preparing to launch an attack or luring them back under the water. Shoichi decided it was better to act first.

"Yuudai, do you have anything that can let us fight under there?"

The teen's devilish grin answered the question before he spoke. "Can't say I have a specific jutsu for it, but I should be able to rustle something up."

"Then do it now; we need to beat her at her own game if we want to get rid of this thing. Syrak, you wait up here. Watch our backs and jump in if things get too rough."

A thrum from the gator's throat assured them he understood as Yuudai cast five hand signs and placed a hand on Shoichi's arm.

"_Water Style: Mobile Water Prison Jutsu!_"

As a sphere of water closed shut around him Shoichi wondered whether he'd been double-crossed. He held his breath when he realised what was happening, but a squirt still managed to find its way up his nose. Struggling for air, Shoichi was about to act before Yuudai threw another seal at his dome-shaped prison.

"_Oxygenate!_"

At once the sphere hollowed out, making it little more than a self-sustaining bubble of air that stuck to Shoichi's crown and soles. Extending his arms allowed him to put his hand right through it; he could even slash his sword through the tissue-thin membrane without breaking the bubble.

"Oh wow, this is perfect," Shoichi marvelled, stretching it as far as it would go. "Look at this thing! How did you come up with this!? You know what? I changed my mind. Wait here – I should be able to take care of this by myself. She's going down!"

With a half-concealed grin Yuudai spared a mocking glance to Shoryu, still recovering from his self-inflicted voltage. The moment Shoichi disappeared beneath the waves Yuudai burst out laughing; the older man's rant echoed the words of his son. He had heard Shoryu use the exact same phrases time and time again.

Shoichi was gone for a whole half a minute. Below the water the silhouettes danced as he darted from place to place hacking through Yasu's endless legion of Water Clones. It took him twenty seconds to get bored of that and try something new. Sinking to the bottom, Shoichi's last ten seconds were spent casting hand signs for some jutsu.

Between the distorted, echoing warbles the words 'Wind Style' were the only two that were audible. Whatever it was, the technique fired up and out; a straight, rising blade of wind like a sword that split Yasu's pool right down the centre.

As the shortening waves bowed away from him in two distinct halves Shoichi remained still on the forest floor. With the water separated completely – if only for a brief moment – the whole jutsu fell apart. Waves cascaded into the distance until the soaked pines and muddy puddles were all that remained. Yuudai was already celebrating as the enemy Senmatsu prepared herself for a counter.

"It's over Yasu," said Shoichi. "Come along quietly."

"Over?" echoed Yasu. The truth of her words rang clearer as every inactive ninja from the treetops suddenly dropped back to the surface. From Hotaru's back even Shoryu found his feet again. He was hardly a threatening sight, but it was one more shinobi against the lone enemy.

"_Over?_" she repeated again. "You think this is _OVER?_"

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," her brother advised. He wouldn't say it again.

As Yasu began to cast hand signs a host of fingers reached for shuriken and stretched into seals of their own. Shoichi stopped his group with a halting palm; this was clearly a desperation tactic – a last ditch technique when no other option remained.

"We need her alive," he reminded them. "Let her carry on. She won't have any chakra left after this."

"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Shoryu, his leg still shaking.

"_Water Style!_" In place of a hand sign Yasu threw her arms above her head, like an act of worship for some god amongst the clouds. Instead, all the water that she'd drained from the ground returned to her in an instant, rising and rising as she poured every last shred of chakra into the jutsu.

In a matter of seconds she'd formed a static tidal wave, gushing as the backdrop of a waterfall behind her. Starting at twenty feet in height it grew by the gallons until it dwarfed every tree in for miles around. At well over a hundred metres the technique was finally ready, raging and frothing with a soapy white foam like a ravenous dog preparing for a feast.

"_Mizukami!_"

At once the invisible dam behind Yasu broke. The ninja herself soared through the arc of the wave as the great tsunami took flight, ripping apart whatever trees and vegetation happened to be in its mile-wide warpath. Making shapes with his fingers, Shoichi formed a reaction.

"_Summoning Jutsu: Triple Rashomon!_"

Three clouds of mist and dust bloomed to life this time, each a towering rectangle reaching the sky in a single-file domino formation. Immediately the summoned objects blocked all sight of the wave. Instead Shoryu and the others suddenly found themselves staring at the last colossal wall between them and the Senmatsu, trimmed in cobalt spines with its stone centre in the visage of a fanged, smiling demon.

Before the ninja could question its existence the sound of the wave hitting the first wall could be heard. Yasu's jutsu smashed apart the concrete, an immovable avalanche of rolling waves with the spears of countless trees at its head.

Again the sound became a running channel of water. Looking around, it took even the most alert of the ninja to notice Yuudai and Shoichi were gone until they were halfway up the blue wall.

As the ground began to shake the thunderous crash came again. Sprays of water hitting the rock reminded Shoryu of the beach; the second Rashomon held back the initial impact before the full weight of the wave came rushing along and broke it down.

Clambering up the curved slate of the roof, Shoichi took his place at the top of the last barrier; their final blockade against the storm and the highest point on the battlefield. Yuudai joined him within seconds.

"She'll be right at the centre, floating on top," said Shoichi. "Manipulating that much chakra; water users like to find safe place while they're using those kinds of big jutsu – helps them keep a steady outflow."

"I know. I'm a water user," Yuudai replied.

"Oh." The older man cocked his head, deliberating for a few moments before merely shrugging his shoulders. "Noted."

Yuudai had scarcely said a word before he disappeared down the other side, scaling a small portion of the wall in dramatic falls to get himself level with the incoming torrent.

Shoichi watched as the youngster threw himself at the lip of the wave, screaming like a lunatic. With his legs bent at shoulder width he looked poised to mount a surfboard. No such instrument was visible when Yuudai leapt at the wave, and yet still he zipped against the roar of the incoming rapids, bouncing against the monstrous current until he was a good distance from the blue Rashomon.

Where its predecessors smashed the last barrier held strong. The first was designed to take the attack head on; the second was to reduce the overall pressure and the third to disperse that pressure. All at once a great spray of water reflected to the skies, bouncing from the sneer of the unnerving demon painted on the wall. They became fireworks behind Yuudai, painting the air with rainbows wherever they soared too high.

Yuudai rocked and raced against the mountainous tide until his mark came into view. With her hands still fixed in a seal and her eyes tightly shut the kunoichi mumbled a mantra to herself over and over again – something to help her concentrate during the huge amount of chakra expense her technique required. By positioning herself atop the heart of her tsunami the size of ten sports pitches Yasu reckoned herself safe from any would-be attackers facing the wave head-on.

A flying kick straight to the gut proved her wrong. Yuudai soared, using the curve of a wave as a ramp and spinning into position for the perfect connection.

This time Yasu was the skipping stone. As the spray from the wall slowly began to reduce her jutsu she toppled across the water like a flat shard of slate. In her endless cycle of flips and barrel-rolls she never saw Shoichi, taking off like a majestic falcon from the edge of the roof with sword in hand. He eclipsed the sun for half a moment before plunging into free fall.

Good aim with a shuriken was one thing – it was a trait Shoichi and his son both shared – but aiming one's own body was an entirely different skill. The ninja's precision was pinpoint; he descended on his moving target like an arrow, driving the length of his katana right through Yasu's shoulder to splash an everlasting current of gore into the water at their feet.

With Yasu's focus on the blade in her arm the waves vanished even faster, dispersing like violent rain across the woods the ninja had called camp. Even the chakra-draining effect was gone; Shoichi could simply keep his arm on his sword and ride the sea level down until his sandals finally hit the ground.

When Shoryu and his friends scarpered around the corner of his demonic wall the ninja couldn't help but snigger, knowing how cool he must have looked to his young son.

Yasu's controlled hiss of pain suddenly turned to a snarl, reminding Shoichi that he still had work to do. From his tool pouch the man retrieved a short length of rope, yellow and bristled with a metal wire protruding from each end. He lashed his sister to the nearest broken stump of tree before daring to remove his sword. Blood fountained from the exit wound as he jerked the metal free. By then she was too weak to fight back.

"This stuff here is called jamming rope, they made it over in the Hidden Stone a few years back," Shoichi explained. "Blocks off all chakra inhibitors so anyone caught in it can't use their jutsu."

"Sounds useful," said Shoryu. Their only targets being the suicidal clones for the last few years meant that capturing people alive was never a priority in the war; Reizo never even covered it.

"It is. . ." The older man rounded on Yasu, meeting her eyes with a hard stare that told no lies. "So, this is how things are going to go down: You can tell me where Teijo is, then I'll untie you – honestly I don't care where you go from there, you're no threat to us anymore."

Shoryu was about to but in. Yasu _was _a threat – way too serious a risk to let loose on the world. But as his mouth began to move he realised his father's plan. He'd already beaten her in battle; now he was trying to convey how little she mattered in the grand scheme of things – to make her see how pointless it was to oppose them so that she'd never think of trying it again.

"_Or _I can leave you here tied up to this tree stump and we can just hang out until you bleed out. I don't even have to torture you, I can just wait. I'd say you've got maybe an hour or so before that wound seriously needs patching up. You know that as well as I do."

Yasu merely scowled at him, scoffing in disgust. "You sit there and offer me options, on the same side as _her?_" she spat, motioning to Ayako. "Cut me loose Shoichi – as your sister let me get the revenge I am owed."

"I told you that Teijo killed your daughter!" Ayako snapped. The second kunoichi marched up to their captor, clearly sick of all the ignorant charges. "Wake up lady! I didn't talk to some bouncing, bubbly twenty-something girl on that battlefield; I spoke to a sick man hijacking her body."

"Teijo would never-"

"-Listen to yourself Yasu: 'Teijo would never'?" said Shoichi. "Since when? When was he anything other than a twisted, poorly adjusted sadist? You defend him blindly because he's your twin brother; you think that acknowledging anything wrong with him reflects badly upon you!"

Yasu recoiled, speechless. Perhaps it was because of Shoichi's sudden mocking of her or because he spoke the spoke the truth – Shoryu couldn't tell.

"But that's not the case!" his father pleaded. "You know it's only same-sex twins that are genetically identical right!? You and him are no different than any other siblings! Come on Yasu, everyone in the family knew of this scheme – only you were kept out of the loop. They used her like they're using you." Shoichi was almost desperate now, pacing back and forth as he struggled for the right combination of words to make his sister see sense.

But Yasu remained as stubborn as every Senmatsu they'd encountered. The woman turned her head and snorted, "Even if that's true it doesn't change a thing. I won't turn my back on my family – telling you anything would waste years of hard work."

"It doesn't change a thing?" Shoichi asked, furious now. "He killed your only child Yasu, how does that not change a thing!? Just tell us where he is and we'll get you your revenge!"

The kunoichi held her silence. Even when her brother's words became undeniably true her loyalty to the Senmatsu stayed; getting more information from her would prove difficult.

Shoichi was so engaged in his argument that he failed to notice the newcomer arriving. The young, mute clone known as Free squelched his way through the nearest clearing and into sight, immediately sparking off new conversation from Shoryu and friends. The commander uttered a few words to the boy before Free strode up to Shoichi and cast hand signs.

The older man found his mind being invaded by a sudden, crippling pain. By the time his fingers reached his sword though the agony was over, replaced instead by a prepubescent voice echoing around his head.

_Let me take a run at her, _he said quietly. _I believe I can get the information you seek._

Shoichi met the boy's stare for a moment, cautious of his father's rebellious creation. In the end he surrendered his sister to Free with a wave of his hand. She wasn't in any hurry to talk; perhaps he could loosen her tongue if nothing else.

As Free approached her he was already weaving together a complex array of seals. They watched him for a time as he harnessed his chakra, fingers stretching to all the correct positions for the kind of mind-invading jutsu he excelled at.

Once his last hand sign was formed Free planted the palm of his hand on Yasu's forehead, gripping it tight like an exorcist trying to banish a demon as he shut his eyes and called out its name.

_Ninja Art: Neuro-Relay Jutsu._

The effect lasted but a few seconds. Yasu seized under his hold for a time before sagging to the floor, exhausted and drained from trying to fight the jutsu too hard. Free turned to the others.

_He's in the Land of Wind, sixteen miles southwest into a region known as the 'Forlorn Dunes'. _

"The Forlorn Dunes eh?" relayed Shoichi, meeting his sister with a knowing grin. He knew the place. "Yes. . . That would be ideal for him. The Hidden Sand abandoned that place once the war broke out – brigands took over the whole region while the ninja were away fighting."

_There are no brigands there anymore_, Free assured them.

"_What? _How? When? You little wretch! What did you do to me!? How is it that you came across that name?"

Since she was left out of his telepathic jutsu Free could form no retort to satisfy her curiosity. Still, his calm stroll away from her only infuriated Yasu more, and it was that very same anger that told Shoichi this was no trick. There were tears in her eyes; she fought against the rope like a wild animal in her attempt to get at the young clone, scratching only the bark of the tree in her rage.

_Commander,_ said Free, turning to Shoryu. He sought no acknowledgement for the countless hours and effort he'd just saved them by getting Teijo's whereabouts; he only carried on delivering his report like the dutiful soldier he was._ I led the ninja to the outskirts of the woods as you instructed. When I couldn't find Yuudai I figured he was already fighting, so I came back to see if you needed assistance. _He looked around at the broken marshland that enclosed them. _Clearly I was mistaken._

Smiling, Shoryu abandoned his hunch to draw himself up to full height. "You keep surprising us again and again, thank you."

_It was my pleasure_, Free insisted.

"It looks like we have a new destination guys. We'll head back to the Cloud to gather our forces and request permission for a full-scale assault against whatever stronghold Teijo is keeping in the Forlorn Dunes." When no one disagreed Shoryu turned his attention again to the young clone. "I know I promised you your freedom after this mission – and that's still an offer you can take up – but I get the feeling you're as invested in this as any of us. We'll need only the strongest ninja for this mission; you definitely qualify on that front. So how about it Free?"

Free didn't even take a moment to think before his head began to nod of its own accord. The youngster was determined to release every last clone from the clutches of the Senmatsu – Shoryu could see it in his eyes.

_Of course. Teijo will pay for what he did to my people. I will join you on your mission to bring him down._

Nods and mutterings of agreement followed as the ninja welcomed a new squad member.

_I only have the one request_, he asked, bashfully shuffling his feet as he loathed to ask for anything else. Shoryu on the other hand didn't seem to mind.

"Ask away."

_I am trying as best as I can to fit in around here. I want to be a part of this society, but there are still things I have yet to experience – things that make you humans such a resilient group._

"Spit it out Free," Shoryu laughed. "As long as it's in my power you can have it – don't be shy."

_I never had a home – well, not a true one anyway. I want to know what it's like to have a place to return to; a home worth protecting. You all share this. It binds you together – makes you stronger as ninja._

Nervous glances passed around the group; was Free really asking what they thought he was asking? It sounded like a risk even despite Free's sincerity; a clone living in the Cloud? What would Reizo make of it? The boy's words sparked looks of unease from ninja to ninja.

Only Shoryu didn't flinch; in fact he looked as if he'd been expecting that very speech. Wincing as he stretched his wounds, the ninja moved his hands to his forehead protector as his fingers unwound the familiar knot around the fabric. "Since I became a Jonin I haven't had the chance to do this yet," he noted.

White and steel grey, the ancient symbol of shinobi of the Land of Lightning clattered into Shoryu's hands. After eyeing it up with a nostalgic gaze he handed it to the clone, the young boy who could only marvel in awe at the simple garment.

"They'll make you fill out some forms and take a few easy tests when we get back, but for all intents and purposes congratulations! You're now what we call a 'Genin' of the Village Hidden in the Cloud."

_Thank you commander. I will make sure you are not mistaken in your judgement of me_, said Free.

Shoryu nodded before spinning round to address the group. "Alright, great work everyone! Yuudai, that was pretty sick. I'm putting your name in for promotion."

"All in a day's work Shoryu."

"You guys go and meet with the others, ensure them everything's under control and that we'll just have to relocate for tonight - we leave first thing in the morning. Leave Yasu to my father and I; you guys take the rest of the afternoon off."

As Shoryu and Shoichi remained the group headed off. Those around him gave their thanks and temporary farewells; Ayako even skipped over to give her new boyfriend a peck on the cheek before leaving.

The enemy Senmatsu fell to silence as Shoichi took his son to one side. At twenty feet away he lowered his voice to a whisper, if only to make sure Yasu couldn't hear them.

"I'm not trying to step on your toes here, believe me. I'm just wondering about that clone," said Shoichi.

Shoryu nodded, fingering his newly formed stubble with a thoughtful gaze. Then, "You don't think I should've granted him sanctuary."

"It's not that. I don't know him. Look, I'm sure he's a real nice guy and all, but you have to consider the possibility-"

"-That he's actually a spy for the Senmatsu?" Shoryu met his father's eyes as he took every word right out of his mouth. "That all his actions until now have just been a ploy to get close to me? That his whole episode with Yasu just now was a ruse the two of them planned beforehand so they can lead us into a deadly trap a thousand miles away from home? Those kinds of possibilities?"

Shoichi looked impressed.

"Believe me, I've considered it time and time again, but Free has been given countless opportunities to sabotage our mission. If he wanted to kill me he could've done it any number of times," Shoryu reasoned. "Now look at the alternative. Assuming he's legit, that means we could soon be looking at even more allies. Once Teijo goes down he's the only one that can reach out to them – if we have one of them on our side we can make them see we're not their enemies."

Shoichi thought it over for a minute, weighing in the pros and cons of each argument. "Even if someday we manage to kill my father his clones won't go away; they're independent of his will. When that day comes I imagine we'll have to accommodate them in our world somehow. If it isn't handled properly then it could just lead to another war – this boy could help us with that. So do you trust him?"

"Yes." Shoryu's answer was immediate.

"Then I'll leave it to your judgement. In the meantime. . ." With the matter settled Shoichi turned his attention to his sister, still bleeding out against the shattered spine of a tree.

Yasu regarded him with a quiet glare as the man flipped open a shuriken. She would say no more today. Shoichi and Ayako's words gave her much to think about; even with a sharpened blade in her face the kunoichi held her silence. Her expression showed momentary surprise as Shoichi opted not to take her life. Instead his hand snaked around to the bindings on her wrists, severing them with a flick of the shuriken.

"Go. You can carry on with your revenge, you can go back to the family or you can disappear - it's your choice. Either way, the next time I see you fighting on the wrong side I'll kill you."

Still saying nothing, Yasu slowly managed to find her feet and headed off, swaying in the direction of the village they came from. Whether she'd make it there without dying of blood loss was another question, but Shoichi put his sister out of his mind for now; her stupidity only made him angry every time he thought about it.

"Thanks for that," he said. "I know you were probably supposed to bring her in."

Shoryu shook his head. "Yasu Senmatsu is a high-profile target. I was _supposed _to kill her the moment I saw her."

"You won't get in trouble?"

"Nah. No one you saw is about to rat me out. Besides, I'm not in the business of asking people to kill their siblings – that stuff is way too heavy for me."

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Alright so we've got a new destination at least, with our clone friend being made into an honorary Cloud graduate.

Honestly don't have much more to say on this chapter. Not sure if we're ever going to see Yasu again, she's one of those that I can just sort of leave in ambiguity and only bring back if I really need to. I imagine after this she finds some way to rebel against the family in her own way, just whether or not we'll actually see that is another question entirely.

Shoryu and Shoichi seem to have found an understanding I guess, but beyond that there was no major character development in this chapter, and Kazuya's still absent following his recent tragedy. He'll be back next time.


	41. Chapter 41 The Story Never Told

Chapter 41: The Story Never Told

Shoichi sat in wait, hidden beneath the shadow of an overhanging palm swaying in the sea-bound breeze. Playing a peculiar woodwind flute he made himself comfortable in the sandy clearing. The Jonin made fists with his toes to rub away the grains caught in his sandals, already itchy with all the gnats such weather invited.

Through the trees Shoichi heard the sound of waves lapping against the shore, married as expected to the constant caw of circling gulls. The ninja checked the time once more; late as usual. Punctuality was one quality his beloved cousin surely lacked.

As much as he hated the wait the ninja had to admit that the journey here was one he'd enjoyed. During the summer the Land of Fire was the best place to be. Pleasant little towns and sunny hillsides were the only obstacles in his way. Crossing the Great Naruto Bridge alone was enough to make his trip worth it; if he craned his head he could still see it through the trees, stretching across a vast expanse of water and all the way into the distance.

A shuffling through the bushes alerted Shoichi to the presence of another. Michio strode into the clearing with a hum and a spring in his step.

"Michio!"

"Hey!" The younger ninja met him with a fierce hug. "How's it been buddy?"

"Good – considering," said Shoichi. The idea that his infant son was growing up without him still weighed on his conscience, but at the very least he'd kept his head down. They were safe for the time being.

"Glad to hear it."

The two parted and took a seat upon opposing rocks, each easing to a slouched position as they prepared to catch up. Shoichi asked his usual opening question – it couldn't hurt to be safe.

"So, where are you living at the moment?"

"The Village Hidden in the Rain. Hardly ideal I know."

Shoichi laughed. "Oh yeah? What's the weather like over there?"

"It rains a lot." Michio gave a shrug.

The ninja froze. Shoichi's first instinct was to ask again – to be sure he hadn't simply misheard his cousin. He stopped himself before his lips could move. Michio was reckless and excitable, but far from stupid. He knew the dangers in coming here and had upheld the protocol ever since their great escape all those years ago.

After thinking it over for half a moment Shoichi was on his feet. As he rose he threw out his hand, channelling chakra for a single swift movement. In a heartbeat he was over his cousin, summoned sword puffing to his grip as he pressed it to the man's neck.

"Wrong answer."

Michio met his stare with an innocent look of horror and confusion; the exact expression one would expect for his sudden threat. Shoichi wasn't buying it though. The Jonin held his gaze for a full five seconds before Michio blinked into a different person. His eternal scowl warped to a devilish, toothy grin as the man behind the curtain finally showed his face.

"I take it I failed some kind of test? Clever of you to put such precautions in place."

"Teijo," said Shoichi – he knew that look right away. Seeing his brother realised through Michio was a horrifying sight to behold. Somehow Teijo had found him and enslaved him; the boy Shoichi knew was no longer home.

"So what's it to be big brother?" Teijo asked, sniggering like a madman. "Are you really going to fight me now?"

* * *

"Michio!" Shouting to life, Shoichi woke from his restless slumber in a sudden lurch as the fight was about to begin. Speaking with Shoryu about it must have pushed his memories back to the surface; he'd made every effort to avoid thinking about that day for over a decade now. Lingering on such a trauma would only slow him down.

As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes Shoichi took in the new day. Peering out of the crack of his tent door, he decided it must be close to nine o'clock and quickly got dressed. Today was airy and cool – the kind of climate someone from the Hidden Cloud usually enjoyed.

Over a small fire cooking sausages and bacon the ninja suddenly got a wave of déjà vu. Peering through the crowd of ninja passing by, his eyes finally settled on a young man with the same face as the cousin he dreamt of. Even from the side and through a mob of faces he recognised the man as Kazuya; how could it be anyone else? The same deep-set frown lines and thick eyebrows betraying a constant glare was a trip down memory lane.

Once his breakfast was over Shoichi figured he would speak with him. Kazuya had been in the dark for too long.

* * *

Shoryu was already eating when Kazuya rapped on the flap of his tent. The samurai entered, baby in his arms, to the sight of his commander enjoying breakfast in bed. A tray was balanced over his stomach with the smell of beans and swine wafting like incense around the room. The boy immediately set down the plate and straightened up.

"No need for that. Don't starve yourself on my account," said Kazuya.

Tentatively Shoryu seized a kunai from his bedside table and began prodding at his food. Baby Kansuke slept soundly in the arms of his father, with the samurai himself at a loss of how to act. He held the child at arm's length, stiff and awkward as if babies were some foreign species.

"How are you doing?" Shoryu asked. Dwelling on yesterday wouldn't change a thing, but even so he felt it necessary to ask.

"As well as you'd expect." Looking down, Kazuya shook his head. "I need time to put her to rest and a little more to get the samurai back in some kind of order. They won't be happy with that last command I gave them."

"Well we have a new destination," said Shoryu, swallowing a mouthful. "The Forlorn Dunes – Teijo's stronghold is hidden there. We'll be heading out in a fortnight or so."

"That should be enough time."

Looking closer at his face Shoryu noticed the terrible shape Kazuya was in. In just a day he looked to have aged five years, his eye sunken and greyed with his hair wild and chin burdened by the need to shave. He looked weaker than ever, swaying on the spot instead of his usual rigid posture. He hadn't eaten or slept since the previous day – that much was obvious.

Shoryu pushed over the plate and held out his arms to take Kansuke. "Eat," he ordered. "Let me worry about the little guy for a minute."

Kazuya did as he was told and relinquished his son to Shoryu. The food looked stale and bitter to him, going in forced lumps down his throat. Shoryu pretended not to notice his difficult meal as he rocked Kansuke from side to side, whistling a merry tune he usually played with the flute.

"It's still hard to believe you're actually a dad." he added.

"Tell me about it."

"Speaking of which, mine came back out of the blue."

Kazuya looked up. Morbid and stern as he was, Shoryu could tell that at least got his attention.

"Yeah. The guy just shows up and starts kicking ass left right and centre." Shoryu eased back into his bed as he recounted the story again. "Supposedly he's been on the run from the Senmatsu since before we were born and spent the last seventeen years trying to outmanoeuvre Teijo."

"He's here now?"

"Yeah, he's probably still wandering around camp somewhere. You should speak with him; he knew your old man quite well. Some new intel might help take your mind off things, y'know?"

"I've a better solution for that." Before he'd finished his sentence Kazuya was already pulling free the knots that held his sword in its leather casings. He withdrew the blade carefully, ditching the usual flourish he employed for fear of hitting the baby.

"Seriously?" Shoryu threw off the covers to display the bandages covering his torso – half a dozen at least. "Neither of us is exactly in tiptop form right now."

"You said you'd help me in making our family pay for their sins."

Suddenly Kazuya was melancholic again, looking off to avoid Shoryu's gaze as he struggled for the right sentence. His words were an echo of the promise Shoryu made to him, one the boy fully meant to uphold.

"That's all I can think about," said the Taisho. "Every day I sit inside healing is another day I could be out there getting stronger. I can't be idle Shoryu, not for a second. The only thing that matters now is making those bastards suffer for what they did to Fujiko. We need to be tougher and faster to have any hope of fighting these guys – Madoka was only the beginning. For now I just need to know if I can still handle myself with one eye."

Shoryu sat and thought about it. If Kazuya's desperation wasn't already apparent to him it certainly was now. He held back the feeling of pity welling up in his stomach; Kazuya would only resent him for having such concerns, doubly so if he voiced them.

"Alright fine. Half an hour at a _leisurely pace_," he stressed. "We're only practicing moves here. If my wounds reopen because you're too going too fast then you're the one who has to explain it to Jinga."

"Deal."

Straining his way out of bed, Shoryu quickly got dressed and donned his sword, leaving baby Kansuke to his father as they headed out.

Five clearings over and finally they found a secluded spot. Woodland spread out in each direction, with gnarled, umbrella-like trees forming a cool shadow on the surface. Following yesterday's downpour the ground was still boggy and waterlogged, although a snug spot beneath their central tree was dry enough to house the sleeping babe.

As their feet sank further and further Shoryu and Kazuya ended up using the Water Walking technique to stay above the marsh. The samurai was true to his word and slowed his moves to a crawl. Clearly he too was testing the water; with their bodies in such ruin Shoryu couldn't help but wonder which of them would now win in an all-out fight.

Both were disadvantaged from the start. Shoryu had one sword and Kazuya one eye. Speaking for himself, the Jonin quickly remembered why he hated one-sword style so much. It required a sense of balance he never possessed and a keen muscle memory for the harder techniques. With two swords, frantic footwork and unpredictability were usually Shoryu's greatest allies.

Where Shoryu figured he could never get used to one sword, Kazuya appeared much more able to adapt. With the Blocking Jutsu in play Shoryu managed a handful of scathing blows to his opponent's left flank. After a bruise too many though the Taisho began to wise up; he started turning his head whenever a swing came in from his blind side. Once he could see Shoryu's moves the fight changed course once again.

Fortunately they never managed to find out who could truly best the other. Only fifteen minutes had passed before Ayako sought them out, strolling through the canopy with a basket of assorted fruits in hand.

"This _was _supposed to be a 'get well soon' present."

Shoryu froze and looked down at himself, still poised to attack with his only sword raised in an offensive stance. "Picnic?" he suggested.

"I suppose so. Here." Seizing a pear and then an orange Ayako threw her former teammates each a fruit and called a timeout for them to eat.

Despite having already demolished breakfast Shoryu ate more than any other. Chakra exhaustion was the bane of his existence; between activating the Kanzen and fighting Yasu his last few days had been torturous.

With his body in shock – and being out cold for over a day – Shoryu found himself starving and tired at the worst moments. For one whose life revolved around a routine schedule sorting out his internal body clock always became Shoryu's priority after a fierce fight.

When Kansuke awoke hungry Ayako cut up tiny slices of melon and carefully fed the boy. Closer inspection proved that the little tyke did in fact have teeth, and Kazuya's signature hair of a brilliant white already had already begun to grow. After discussing it at length Team Thirteen decided there was no accurate way to tell when exactly the child's birthday was, so they settled on May 15th as a good approximation.

"Why do you have to take him somewhere so cold and miserable?" Ayako questioned, prodding Kansuke's pudgy face as he giggled at her strange expressions. "Want to come home with auntie Ayako? Yes you do."

Kazuya forced a smile. "Hard as it is to believe, but he'll be the next Taisho of the Glacier when I'm gone. It's a hard place to adapt to, so growing up there is crucial to handling the environment. I'd hate to sire the first Taisho in our family's history who couldn't stand the cold."

"It's odd; you guys put such a huge responsibility on such a small child," Shoryu muttered. "What if he grows up really skinny – or just ends up a real asshole?"

"You mean what if he grows up like you did?" chimed Ayako.

"Shut it you."

"Such is our way," Kazuya explained, shrugging his shoulders. "It's far from a flawless system; we've had a number of Taisho ill-suited for the position, just as any samurai clan has. But it's a part of our tradition now and to reject it would be to cast aside hundreds of years of convention. Besides, the shinobi system isn't perfect either. Committees decide your leaders and committees can become corrupt – a bloodline cannot."

"I can think of a few who might disagree with you there," said Shoryu, thinking of the clan he grew up with. Imagining the look on Saito Yukizawa's face when he saw the Kanzen Raikyogan made him suddenly fancy sprinting all the way back to the Cloud.

"True enough. Regardless, it's my job to make sure Kansuke is up to the task of replacing me when I'm gone."

"Keep going the way you have been and you'll be dead before you get the chance," said Ayako.

At this Shoryu flashed her a warning cringe, a private reminder to tone down the criticism. She was right of course; if he carried on rushing into battle, spearheading the vanguard and taking on two Senmatsu at once Kazuya was unlikely to ever see Kansuke grow up.

"If that happens then he becomes your responsibility. You're his godparents for a reason. I wouldn't accept anyone else taking care of him."

"Lucky us," said Shoryu, vowing then to keep Kazuya alive at all costs.

"Aww don't listen to him Kansuke." Ayako stooped over to feed him another slice of banana. "He's just being mean."

"Ayako he's not old enough to understand words let alone sarcasm."

"Hey don't make me choose between you two. This little bundle of joy wins every time, don't you Kansuke?"

Another chirp of laughter sounded from the baby as Ayako ruffled his silky head of hair.

"So you're an item now?" Kazuya asked, working out the details from Ayako's last sentence.

"Umm. . ." Shoryu trailed off as his eyes found the clouds with an awkward scratch of his head. Ayako looked equally unsure of what to say; announcing they were a couple in the wake of Kazuya's mourning was perhaps too bold. Shoryu hated the idea of rubbing it in his face, but the samurai merely shrugged again and nodded his head.

"Took you long enough."

"Nice." Shoryu bit his tongue; whenever Kazuya teased him about wooing Ayako his go-to response was always something along the lines of 'not all of us are lucky enough to have a beautiful betrothal from birth.' Never again would he be able to use that excuse.

With the atmosphere reaching greater levels of awkwardness Shoryu found himself relieved when a new face wandered into the clearing. Shoichi stopped and regarded them with surprise – as though he'd stumbled across them during a walk. Shoryu saw through the act in a second, wondering then if the others did too.

"Well look who it is!" he announced, walking over.

"Heya," said Shoryu.

Shoichi took a seat opposite the gang and helped himself to an apple. "You know, I once used a fruit basket for a battle strategy – worked pretty well too."

"Shoichi Senmatsu I take it," said Kazuya, coolly staring him down.

"What gave me away?"

Kazuya merely looked to his left – to the son and then back to the father, highlighting the resemblance without saying a word. Then, "Honestly I couldn't tell you."

"Very funny," said Shoryu.

"Guess my reputation precedes me." Shoichi tore another bite from the apple. "But I'm not the only one; you're Kazuya Takashi. You're Michio's son."

Kazuya said nothing, even as the man leaned in to get a closer look at the giggling baby.

"Which makes this little guy his grandson. . . Wow," he went on. Shoryu watched as it suddenly dawned on his father that he was old enough to be a grandparent. "You don't waste any time do you?" he added. "Then again neither did Michio. . . There's got to be a profound comment about your eyes there that I'm missing. . ."

"Hard to waste time when you live outside it?" Shoryu suggested.

"That'll do it, thank you son."

"You're welcome."

Sensing they were getting off topic, Shoichi cleared his throat and tried again. "So you're a samurai then. Your father had this real appreciation for that lifestyle. He said that when you cast aside all those material desires and live in relative simplicity you get a better picture of what matters most."

That caught Kazuya's interest. The Taisho narrowed his eye on the older man, trying to gauge whether or not he was telling the truth.

"He said that?"

Shoichi nodded. "Hand on heart. Why do you think he chose to settle there? Were it not for his fascination with samurai you would never have been born."

After considering for a moment, Kazuya replied, "Sounds like a smart man."

"He was." The ninja rocked forwards, resting his chin on his hands. "Now you three have quite the reputation amongst the Cloud shinobi. Not to be blunt, but yours seems to paint you as this pessimistic misanthrope. . . I'm glad that's not the case; you seem easy with me, despite my surname."

"Shoryu trusts you," the Taisho replied. "That's enough for me to trust you."

"Now _there's _a smart man." Shoichi gave a laugh. "You know there's a lot of Michio in you. It's hidden – maybe not as overt as with Shoryu and me – but it's definitely there. I can tell right now that he'd be proud of the man you've become."

When Kazuya replied with a solemn nod the older ninja slung off his backpack and began to rummage around. Sweet wrappers, metal wire and a few scraps of parchment littered the ground before he finally pulled out a photograph, handing it to the boy.

Kazuya accepted the gift as the group huddled round to a picture of Michio and Shoichi, perhaps a year or so older than Squad Thirteen with an even more uncanny resemblance to boot. They stood at the summit of some great mountain; arms slung around the shoulder of the other with a great youthful grin plastered onto each. No doubt this was some holiday photo from years long gone, back when they thought themselves safe from the clutches of their fathers.

"I figured they didn't have many pictures of him at the Glacier – he wasn't there for very long."

"This is the first I've ever seen of him," Kazuya said quietly, staring at the photo. Then – even quieter, "thank you."

"Think nothing of it. I was supposed to be your godfather; this is the least I can do for not being there."

Shoryu paused, stifling a chuckle at the odd coincidence. History seemed to have a funny way of repeating itself; he found himself noticing it more and more with everything his father revealed.

"I'd like to know how he died." Kazuya sat up against the tree as he delved right into the main question on his mind. "I've got a good idea already. . . But I'd still hear it, if it's all the same. I know you're one of the few people who knew anything about it."

Shoichi rocked back, wiped his forehead and released a sigh. "You're well informed," he said. "It's a. . . Difficult thing to explain. I've never told the story to anyone."

"Try me."

Shoryu perked up in sudden interest; he'd asked his father the very same question last night, finding only that he sidestepped the query in favour of waiting for Kazuya. The Taisho was here now; Shoichi's last secret was about to come out.

"You know of Teijo I take it? My sweetheart of a younger brother – the illusion master."

Kazuya nodded.

"Well your father and I had this – well I guess it was a sort of pact. We both figured that if he got a hold of us, it would be better to die than see all our jutsu used against our friends and family."

Already Shoryu could see the tragic end to his story before it unfolded. There was a gleam of regret in his eyes, an immeasurable weight of guilt that even a man as carefree as Shoichi could never hope to shake off in his lifetime.

"We each had this secret question to ask each other. We'd use them every time we met, just to be sure we weren't being controlled. I'd ask him what the weather was like in the village he was staying in and he'd give a sarcastic comment: the Sand was wet, the Mist was clear, the Sound was quiet – you get the idea."

Shoichi went on to tell them the story of his own disappearance – the one Shoryu had already heard. During one of their secret meets a battalion of clones tracked their location. Teijo was summoned and learned of the villages they'd made their homes, pursuing them both for the months that followed even as they ran to the ends of the ninja world to escape him.

"Anyway, some time later we arranged to meet in the Land of Waves. I couldn't wait to see Michio – he was like my little brother and I hadn't seen him for months. He shows up, late as always, with his big grin and even bigger hair. . . And then he fails the secret question."

* * *

Paw prints dashed the sand as Aitrax zipped left and right before lunging at the possessed incarnate of Michio Senmatsu. The swifter being dodged, retaliating with a flying kick so fast and severe that both panther and rider were sent sprawling to the shore.

Rolling through the slush, Shoichi tasted clumps of sand in his mouth as he toppled to a stop. A pebble from the earth gashed open a cheek and his ankle throbbed where he landed sideways. Glancing left, Aitrax was out for the count, laid unconscious against the tide. Ahead of him though Michio's fingers tangled together for a single twisted hand sign. Shoichi leapt to his feet.

"_Jikansanpo!_"

As he threw himself to one side Shoichi evaded the supersonic time-walk as Michio crossed twenty paces in a stream of blue light. From there his body was a flurry of fists and feet; Shoichi went straight on the defensive with the Taijutsu master bombarding him from every angle. Each dodge was a hair's breadth away and every block so painful that his limbs began to shake between the impact of Michio's accelerated strikes.

Shoichi felt his stomach being pounded to his spine. A boot that he missed smashed straight into his gut, the force alone making him reel to his knees in breathless agony. As Michio's heel rose up like a reaper's scythe the Jonin's fingers moved by themselves. He couldn't die here, unable to stop what his cousin always feared.

"_Summoning Jutsu!_"

Drops of muddy sand fled the ground as Shoichi slapped down as hard as he could. A circle of ink spread from him in squiggly characters. Michio looked around, his guillotine kick still poised by his head as the Jikogan scanned the sands for any signs of life.

Nothing appeared – no beast from another place – yet the brief distraction formed enough time for Shoichi to act.

He thrust his arm between Michio's feet and rose up spinning, hooking his hold behind the younger man's knee and tripping him onto the shore. Deciding it would be foolish to engage him up close Shoichi flung a windmill shuriken to put some distance between them as he sprang back to a safe location. A rising kick sent his metal shard spinning; Michio was up again.

"What happened there big brother?" he sneered, Teijo's voice making itself heard. "You can't be out of chakra already?"

Shoichi replied with a cross-shaped seal. He wouldn't give Teijo the pleasure of a conversation, not while he still held his best friend hostage.

"_Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu!_"

Their once spacious battlefield grew all the more crowded with a hundred copies of Shoichi smoking to life. From the line of palms to the lip of the water the coast was filled with clones, grouped in an arrow shape as a formation for attack.

But these were not Shoren's clones. They would burst into nothing with a single hard whack, and for an augmented Taijutsu user the temptation was too great to resist; Teijo wished a challenge for his new favourite puppet. His fingers intertwined once more.

"I'll find the real one if I get you all. _Jikansanpo!_"

As a zooming blink of light Michio crashed into the legion like the waves on the bay, immediately spinning to a sequence of attack whilst casting out three separate Playbacks to join in the fun. One by one the masses of Shoichi fell to his techniques, exploding into smoke wherever a limb struck them.

Michio danced through the crowd without a scratch. Seeing everything in slow motion let him plot every movement to the finest detail. The attacks of the Shoichi clones were a snail's pace to him; the ninja darted between blows countering every swing sent his way, until eventually he fell into a choreographed dance of nonstop movement.

As more and more clones became coughs of smoke Michio failed to notice the battlefield behind him being blanketed with the stuff. With them vanishing so quickly a grey mist like volcanic ash rapidly descended over the clearing. Only when the last clone fell did Michio react; he looked around him, certain that he'd missed one as his eyes darted about the smoke around him. The real Shoichi was nowhere to be found – neither he nor any of the Playbacks he deployed came into contact with the wily Jonin.

The tide splashing his vessel's heels caught Michio's attention; he was looking in the wrong place. He whirled around just in time to lock eyes with a thirty foot gator, leaping out of the waves with an almighty snap of its jaws.

This time it was Michio who stepped back in retreat, skipping just out of range of the crocodile's bite and onto one foot, completely off-balance in his sudden surprise. It was the only opening Shoichi needed. The real thing leapt from the cavernous maw of the beast with sword in hand, running Michio through with a lunging stab piercing flesh, bone and heart.

In a shower of blood and gore the dark blade punched straight through Michio's back, and as they fell it impaled him to the shoreline.

Within that moment Shoichi knew the battle was over. His promise was fulfilled. With his eyes still a spiral Teijo kicked and flailed his arms to wrangle free of the hold. Twisting the sword, Shoichi kept him silent. Pain was Genjutsu's bane, although with his brother's powers what they were it required nothing short of a mortal wound to free whatever slave he held.

Shoichi watched as the Jikogan faded and Michio spluttered back into his body. His throat was too full of blood to speak, but the look on his face said he understood he was dying. Shoichi felt rain on his hand and suddenly realised he was crying. Michio had come back to the sight of him driving a hole through his chest. Looking down, Shoichi was appalled with himself, horrified that he could ever have maintained such an awful vow.

Through short, rasping breaths Michio finally managed to raise a hand, resting it on his cousin's shoulder with a firm grip to get his attention. Stripped of his words, the only thing he could do was nod – a thank you; reassurance that he'd done the right thing. Even as his cousin sobbed Michio stayed strong, holding his stare and forcing a smile until at last he gave his final breath.

* * *

"I've played it over again and again, wondering if maybe I could have done things differently," said Shoichi. A single tear ran down his cheek and he wiped it away with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Kazuya told him. "If it's what he wanted then you did him a service. I'm glad he chose to die with honour – it's quite a rare trait in a shinobi."

"Yeah. . ." After clucking his tongue and looking glum in the silence Shoichi slapped his hands on his thighs. Swiftly he changed the subject as he rose to his feet. "Well I'm glad I could fill you in – you deserved to know. It's been fun meeting you all. I daresay we'll meet again soon."

"You're leaving?" Shoryu couldn't quite manage to keep the disappointment out of his protest.

"You know I can't go back to the Cloud – not with Teijo still out there. I'll meet you at the Forlorn Dunes. Might as well go on ahead and scout out the area; see what we're up against, y'know? I can contact you through Kyoh. That way you'll be able to relay the situation to the Raikage."

Shoryu considered; that actually sounded like a good idea. It would score him a few points with Reizo if nothing else.

"Sure thing. I'll see you soon."

"Well alrighty then." Shoichi paused to cast some seals, then, "_Summoning Jutsu!_"

A creature boomed into focus, birdlike and big enough to inhabit the entire clearing. This time Shoichi had summoned a pterosaur, feathered instead of reptilian. Clearly it was the biggest of its respective species, towering up to the trees with its beak the length of three grown men. Shoryu found himself stricken with a sense of familiarity before the penny finally dropped.

"_You jerk__!_" screamed Ayako.

As he clambered aboard Shoichi was suddenly forced to duck as a flare of scarlet chakra sailed over his head. His summon provoked different reactions from each member of Squad Thirteen. Ayako stood fuming with her fist clenched, ready to fire off another if the creature so much as looked at her. Kazuya slapped a hand to his head and groaned in disbelief. Shoryu on the other hand was suddenly in hysterics, laughing so hard that he was unable to stand.

"What did I do!?"

With his teammates unable to speak Kazuya filled him in. "We encountered this creature before, four years ago during the Chunin Exams. As I remember it we climbed aboard, got his key and then he took off. The thing suddenly vanished once we got to a thousand feet; we almost died. I imagine it was probably just you trying to scale a cliff or something."

"Seriously!?" Shoichi clasped a hand over his mouth. "Well. . .Whoops." He shrugged his shoulders and then waved the trio off. "Guess I should take my leave then, see you all soon!"

Grass bowed away from the beating of wings as the creature took flight. Shoichi continued to wave until the summon obscured his view. From there its speed increased with half a dozen powerful flaps until the beast and its rider were a comet in the distance, sailing over the far-off peaks and out of sight.

Shoryu was still in giggles by the time his father left. As the samurai asked to resume their training Ayako decided to leave them to it. Arranging to meet them for dinner, she made for the camp to see if aught needed doing.

Once Shoryu and Kazuya were alone again the swords of shinobi and samurai began to clash. Increasing the pace, Shoryu bounded forward with a triplet of swings each evaded in turn by the speed of his foe. On the fourth strike Kazuya parried, batting the ninja's sword aside with a spin of his own and wheeling up the second blade to pin against his throat.

"Not bad, that's four to two," offered Shoryu, still keeping count.

Shoryu's hands began to rattle with each swing as his grasp began to weaken. A pattern had emerged in Kazuya's moves; he would open up with a powerful strike before lunging in again for a flourish of attacks. By dodging the initial blow Shoryu found his partner off guard. The edge of his steel was inches from Kazuya when the samurai's kick struck the back of his leg. Before he knew it Shoryu was on his knees with a blunted sword rapping his chest.

"Five to two," he acknowledged.

The bout began anew. This time pace and timing took over as Kazuya focused on the technical side of his attack.

"Looks like we've one more friend," said Shoryu, blocking a move. "Another Senmatsu on our side is another one we won't have to fight." As their swords locked together he dug in his heels and mustered all his strength to push back. Once they separated in sparks he carried on, "I can understand if you don't want to ally with him though."

"Don't think I hold a grudge Shoryu. He did what was necessary. Your father is a hero."

Shoryu almost missed a step as the combat quickened once again. 'Hero' wasn't a word Kazuya bandied about. In fact in four years Shoryu wasn't sure he'd ever heard him use it.

"Why do you say that?"

"You saw those tears same as I. He wasn't lying about anything; it takes courage to keep a promise like that."

As their topic hit close to home Shoryu noticed a flaw in the samurai's higher swing. Kazuya rose his sword to attack and the Jonin stabbed out at his elbow. In Kazuya's recoil a blow found his torso.

"Five to three. And fair point, they did seem pretty tight. That photo alone is proof of that."

"It's a good idea too – that system they had in play."

Shoryu stopped dead his tracks. Another swing met rapped his ribs, but by then he was already too stunned to keep up the score. "What are you saying?"

Lowering his sword, Kazuya elaborated. "Think about it Shoryu: if they were on Teijo's wishlist then I am too, he's just waiting for us to get to the pinnacle of our strength. And if you're not on that same list already then you sure as hell will be when he finds out about the Kanzen Raikyogan."

The ninja looked down at the markings on his hand. It would only be a matter of time; a technique so flashy and powerful was impossible to keep hidden for very long.

"I'd rather die than see my Dojutsu used against those I care about. Through me he could get to Kansuke, you guys and my clan."

Shoryu thought about it for a moment. Ayako and his mother both sprung to mind; Teijo could use his body to deceive and murder them both. With the Kanzen at his disposal there would be few people in the ninja world capable of destroying such a threat.

"I see what you mean," he accepted at last.

"Promise me that if I'm ever compromised you'll do what has to be done," said Kazuya.

"Oh come on!" Shoryu threw up his arms, raising his voice to try and lighten the mood. "Like I ever could! Even if I wanted to!"

"Promise me Shoryu."

When the samurai took to a frightening glare the ninja caved and looked away, eventually conceding with a groan. "Alright fine. But you had better do the same with me, this works both ways you know. I don't want that creepy asshole getting hold of my powers."

"Agreed," said Kazuya, far too quickly for Shoryu's liking.

* * *

.

* * *

Author's Notes: Back again!

Figured that development with Shoichi and Michio was kinda obvious but I liked the idea too much. There's something awesome and shakespearian about two friends trying to kill each other that I never got over.

Anyway, much of this chapter is just exposition and foreshadowing. Next time we'll return to the Cloud and regroup before making our way towards the Land of Wind. Being on the opposite sides of the map to each other, there might be a filler chapter during the journey but I know exactly where to set it. We still haven't seen Konohagakure/The Leaf during Legacies have we? Makes sense to stop there seeing as they also have the Hokage and all his forces on their side. That could be cool; I think I've saved it long enough.


End file.
